Bitter your acts, bitter am I, Kindness your deeds, kindness am I, Pleasant and gentle, so you are, Fine honeyed lips and sweet talker.

You knock at the door of Reality. You shake your thought wings, loosen your shoulders, and open.

Knowing that conscious decisions and personal memory are much too small a place to live, every human being streams at night into the loving nowhere, or during the day, in some absorbing work.

The angel is free because of his knowledge, the beast because of his ignorance. Between the two remains the son of man to struggle.

In Winter the bare boughs that seem to sleep Work covertly, preparing for their Spring.

I will conquer the whole world and fill it with myself

Dance until you shatter yourself.