Be ahead of all farewells as if they were behind you, like the winter that is just departing.

One moment your life is a stone in you, and the next moment a star!

As the arrow endures the string, and in the gathering momentum becomes more than itself. Because to stay is to be nowhere.

We are the bees of the invisible. We madly gather the honey of the visible to store it in the great golden hive of the invisible.

It almost seems as if autumn were the true creator, more creative than the spring, which is too even-toned, more creative when it comes with its will-to-change and shatters the much too ready-made, self-satisfied and really almost bourgeois-complacent image of summer.

Works of art are of an infinite loneliness and with nothing so little to be reached as with criticism.

It is clear that we must trust what is difficult; everything alive trusts in it, everything in Nature grows and defends itself any way it can and is spontaneously itself, tries to be itself at all costs and against all opposition. We know little, but that we must trust in what is difficult is a certainty that will never abandon us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be one more reason for us to do it.