Friendship Needs No Words.

If Even Dying Is To Be Made A Social Function, Then, Grant Me The Favor Of Sneaking Out On Tiptoe Without Disturbing The Party.

We All Have Within Us A Center Of Stillness Surrounded By Silence.

Is Life So Wretched? Isn't It Rather Your Hands Which Are Too Small, Your Vision Which Is Muddled? You Are The One Who Must Grow Up.

On The Bookshelf Of Life, God Is A Useful Work Of Reference, Always At Hand But Seldom Consulted.

This Accidental Meeting Of Possibilities Calls Itself I. I Ask: What Am I Doing Here? And, At Once, This I Becomes Unreal.