I will You, in all, Myself, with promise to never desert you, To which I sign my name.

Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage, must in time be utterly lost.

I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.

If you want me again look for me under your boot soles.

Comerado, this is no book,Who touches this, touches a man,(Is it night? Are we here alone?)It is I you hold, and who holds you,I spring from the pages into your arms-decease calls me forth.

By writing at the instant, the very heartbeat of life is caught.

I say to mankind, Be not curious about God. For I, who am curious about each, am not curious about God - I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least.