You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; They called me the hyacinth girl.' —Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence. Od' und leer das Meer.

Talent imitates, but genius steals.

What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.

We do not pass twice through the same door Or return to the door through which we did not pass.

To become what you are not, behave as you do not.

Hungry Hatred, will not strive against intelligence self-interest.

And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness.