Love the questions, themselves.

Where I create, there I am true.

Live your questions now, and perhaps even without knowing it, you will live along some distant day into your answers.

Go into yourself. Dig into yourself for a deep answer

In one creative thought a thousand forgotten nights of love revive, filling it with sublimity and exaltation.

I am learning to see. I don't know why it is, but everything enters me more deeply and doesn't stop where it once used to. I have an interior that I never knew of... What's the use of telling someone that I am changing? If I'm changing, I am no longer who I was; and if I am something else, it's obvious that I have no acquaintances. And I can't possibly write to strangers.

Look: the trees exist; the houses we dwell in stand there stalwartly. Only we pass by it all, like a rush of air. And everything conspires to keep quiet about us, half out of shame perhaps, half out of some secret hope.