The heart is the anchor to all things, be it love to hate, or light to dark.
If you can’t be who you really are then what is life but an unbearable lie?
Love is not about finding the right person, but about being the right person.
I can see myself before myself—A being through dark scenery.
Love is the bee that carries the pollen from one heart to another.
And so man, as existing transcendence abounding in and surpassing toward possibilities, is a creature of distance. Only through the primordial distances he establishes toward all being in his transcendence does a true nearness to...
There is only Love — and Stories. All else is but a shadow dream.
There is a horror that sometimes comes with being right.