“Those who cannot live fully often become destroyers of life.”

Sometimes we reveal ourselves when we are least like ourselves.

Compassion for our parents is the true sign of maturity.

I believe the lasting revolution comes from deep changes in ourselves which influence our collective life.

When we blindly adopt a religion, a political system, a literary dogma, we become automatons. We cease to grow.

Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.

I want to do things so wild with you that I don’t know how to say them.

Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.

I love the abstract, delicate, profound, vague, voluptuously wordless sensation of living ecstatically.

Dreams are necessary to life.

Experience teaches acceptance of the imperfect as life.

Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.

I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness. In reality those who satisfy me are those who simply allow me to live with my ”idea of them.

Good things happen to those who hustle.

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

Violence is a symptom of impotence.

There are bigger problems in the world than those of love despite this I can’t fathom why I think I may die if i can’t have you.

Memory, Sweet and deadly Broken and lovely Loved and lonely.

These poets and their metaphors lied to me/ you never felt like a mountain I wished to climb/ or a stream I would let myself float in/ or a scent I was dying to bottle in/ these poets lie when they talk of love.

No arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.

Sometimes you have to chop off the dead ends so that you can continue To grow in a healthy direction.

A warrior that never stops. A fire in mind, forever fighting. No surrender during war or peace. Only in death the sweet release, finally subsiding.

When all has failed and you have given up, And not a glint left in your eye. Pick yourself up and start again, Say to yourself: “life is short and one day I’m going to die”

happy life and merciful death