I believe that nothing that is real can pass away.

Losing too is still ours; and even forgetting still has a shape in the kingdom of transformation. When something's let go of, it circles; and though we are rarely the center of the circle, it draws around us its unbroken, marvelous curve.

Young people, who are beginners in everything, cannot yet know love: they have to learn it.

No, no, one can imagine nothing in the world, not the least thing. Everything is composed of so many isolated details that are not to be foreseen. In one's imagining one passes over them and hasty as one is doesn't notice that they are missing. But realities are slow and indescribably detailed.

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

I am too alone in the world and not alone enough to make every moment holy.

To be here is immense.