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While I’m writing, I’m far away; and when I come back, I’ve gone.

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Every day you play with the light of the universe.
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Today is today, and yesterday is gone. There is no doubt.
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I love you only because it’s you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
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Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly.
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Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.
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The birds of night peck at the first stars that flash like my soul when I love you.
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The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading; but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.
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To feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things.
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I like on the table, when we’re speaking, the light of a bottle of intelligent wine.
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Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens.
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Let us forget with generosity those who cannot love us.
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Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?
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So I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
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In one kiss, you’ll know all I haven’t said.
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