We become aware of the void as we fill it.
When the superficial wearies me, it wearies me so much that I need an abyss in order to rest.
Night is a world lit by itself
I know what I have given you… I do not know what you have received.
One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.
He who does not know how to believe, should not know.
Set out from any point. They are all alike. They all lead to a point of departure.
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