You, darkness, of whom I am born- I love you more than the flame that limits the world to the circle it illumines and excludes the rest.

Draw near to Nature. Then try like some first human being to say what you see and experience and love and lose.

The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust.

Children are still the way you were as a child, sad and happy in just the same way-and if you think of your childhood, you once again live among them, among the solitary children.

And still it is not enough to have memories. One must be able to forget them when they are many, and one must have the great patience to wait until they come again. For it is not yet the memories themselves. Not until they have turned to blood within us, to glance, to gesture, nameless and no longer to be distinguished from ourselves - not until then can it happen that in a most rare hour the first word of a verse arises in their midst and goes forth from them.

Nearly everything that matters is a challenge, and everything matters.

Some day when I lose you, will you still be able to sleep, without me to whisper over you like a crown of linden branches?