A black star appears, a point of darkness in the night sky's clarity. Point of darkness and gateway to repose. Reach out, pierce the fine fabric of the sheltering sky, take repose.

One never took the time to savour the details; one said: another day, but always with the hidden knowledge that each day was unique and fatal, that there never would be a return, another time.

The only effort worth making is the one it takes to learn the geography of one's own nature.

How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.

The soul is the weariest part of the body.

Not all the ravages caused by our merciless age are tangible ones. The subtler forms of destruction, those involving only the human spirit, are the most to be dreaded.

If people and their manner of living were alike everywhere, there would not be much point in moving from one place to another.