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.

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