The Two Heart-grey Puddles: Two Mouthsfull Of

They've Healed Me To Pieces.

Read! Read All The Time, The Understanding Will Come By Itself.

Reality Is Not Simply There, It Does Not Simply Exist: It Must Be Sought Out And Won.

Only One Thing Remained Reachable, Close And Secure Amid All Losses: Language. Yes, Language. In Spite Of Everything, It Remained Secure Against Loss.

We Are Told That When Hölderlin Went 'mad,' He Constantly Repeated, 'nothing Is Happening To Me, Nothing Is Happening To Me.'