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

Life and death: they are one, at core entwined. Who understands himself from his own strain presses himself into a drop of wine and throws himself into the purest flame.

I love the dark hours of my being. My mind deepens into them. There I can find, as in old letters, the days of my life, already lived, and held like a legend, and understood.

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

Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave.

What we fight with is so small, and when we win, it makes us small. What we want is to be defeated, decisively, by successively greater things

Things aren't all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life