To be an artist means not to compute or count.

Perhaps then, some day far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

you are not too old and it is not too late to dive into your increasing depths where life calmly gives out it's own secret

What do the contours of your body mean, laid out like the lines on a hand, so that I no longer see them except as fate?

Look, lovers: almost separately they come towards us through the flowery grass and slowly; parting's so far from thought of, they indulge the extravagance of walking unembraced.

We see the brightness of a new page where everything yet can happen.

All this hurrying soon will be over. Only when we tarry do we touch the holy.