I love tunnels. They 're the symbol of hope: sometime it will be bright again. If by chance it is not night.

Isn't it true that it's not people who meet, but rather the shadows cast by their imaginations?

We are stratified creatures, creatures full of abysses, with a soul of inconstant quicksilver, with a mind whose color and shape change as in a kaleidoscope that is constantly shaken.

I love tunnels. They 're the symbol of hope: sometime it will be bright again. If by chance it is not night.

SOLIDAO, LONELINESS. What is it that we call loneliness. It can't simply be the absence of others, you can be alone and not lonely, and you can be among people and yet be lonely. So what is it? ... it isn't only that others are there, that they fill up the space next to us. But even when they celebrate us or give advice in a friendly conversation, clever, sensitive advice: even then we can be lonely. So loneliness is not something simply connected with the presence of others or with what they do. Then what? What on earth?

Kitsch is the most pernicious of all prisons. The bars are covered with the gold of simplistic, unreal feelings, so that you take them for the pillars of a palace.

So, the fear of death might be described as the fear of not being able to become whom one had planned to be.