I would like to sing someone to sleep, to sit beside someone and be there. I would like to rock you and sing softly and go with you to and from sleep. I would like to be the one in the house who knew: The night was cold. And I would like to listen in and listen out into you, into the world, into the woods. The clocks shout to one another striking, and one sees to the bottom of time. And down below one last, strange man walks by and rouses a strange dog. And after that comes silence. I have laid my eyes upon you wide; and they hold you gently and let you go when something stirs in the dark.

Your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the twilight, where the noise of other people passes, far in the distance.

I am a house gutted by fire where only the guilty sometimes sleep before the punishment that devours them hounds them out in the open.

a good marriage is that in which each appoints the other guardian of his solitude

I want to unfold. Let no place in me hold itself closed, for where I am closed, I am false.

It is a tremendous act of violence to begin anything. I am not able to begin. I simply skip what should be the beginning.

I could give you no advice but this: to go into yourself and to explore the depths where your life wells forth.