How Is It Possible For One To

People Have Stars, But They Aren't The Same. For Travelers, The Stars Are Guides. For Other People, They're Nothing But Tiny Lights. And For Still Others, For Scholars, They're Problems... But All Those Stars Are Silent Stars. You, Though, You'll Have Stars Like Nobody Else... Since I'll Be Laughing On One Of Them, For You It'll Be As If All The Stars Are Laughing. You'll Have Stars That Can Laugh!... And It'll Be As If I Had Given You, Instead Of Stars, A Lot Of Tiny Bells That Know How To Laugh.

No Individual Is Isolated. He Who Is Sad, Saddens Others.

Water, Thou Hast No Taste, No Color, No Odor; Canst Not Be Defined, Art Relished While Ever Mysterious. Not Necessary To Life, But Rather Life Itself, Thou Fillest Us With A Gratification That Exceeds The Delight Of The Senses.

The Flower You Single Out Is A Rejection Of All Other Flowers; Nevertheless, Only On These Terms Is It Beautiful.

Nobody Grasped You By The Shoulder While There Was Still Time. Now The Clay Of Which You Were Shaped Has Dried And Hardened, And Naught In You Will Ever Awaken The Sleeping Musician, The Poet, The Asronomer That Possibly Inhabited You In The Beginning.