beautiful December grapes, blue as plums, every grape a little skinful of sweet, tasteless water

Look for a long time at what pleases you, and a longer time at what pains you.

On this narrow planet, we have only the choice between two unknown worlds. One of them tempts us - ah! what a dream, to live in that! - the other stifles us at the first breath.

By an image we hold on to our lost treasures, but it is the wrenching loss that forms the image, composes, binds the bouquet.

A few days later, I found my mother beneath the tree, motionless with excitement, her head turned toward the heavens in which she would allow human religions no place.

I have found my voice again and the art of using it.

When she raises her eyelids it's as if she were taking off all her clothes.