Life's nonsense pierces us with strange relation.

Human nature is like water. It takes the shape of its container.

Of the Surface of Things In my room, the world is beyond my understanding; But when I walk I see that it consists of three or four Hills and a cloud.

Out of this same light, out of the central mind, We make a dwelling in the evening air, In which being there together is enough.

The philosopher proves that the philosopher exists. The poet merely enjoys existence.

The poet makes silk dresses out of worms.

Next to love is the desire for love.