For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.

I am the rest between two notes which are somehow always in discord.

In the night, I wish to speak with the angel to find out if she recognizes my eyes, if she will ask me: do you see Eden? And I’ll reply: Eden burns.

My blood is alive with many voices telling me I am made of longing.

I live not in dreams but in contemplation of a reality that is perhaps the future.

Just as language has no longer anything in common with the thing it names, so the movements of most of the people who live in cities have lost their connection with the earth; they hang, as it were, in the air, hover in all directions, and find no place where they can settle.

I don't want to stay folded anywhere, because where I am folded, there I am a lie.