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Melancholy were the sounds on a winter’s night.

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Melancholy Night Sound Winter

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A light here required a shadow there.
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But nothing is so strange when one is in love (and what was this except being in love?) as the complete indifference of other people.
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She always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.
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I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual.
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Arrange whatever pieces come your way.
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Until we can comprehend the beguiling beauty of a single flower, we are woefully unable to grasp the meaning and potential of life itself.
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All extremes of feeling are allied with madness.
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To enjoy freedom we have to control ourselves.
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It might be possible that the world itself is without meaning.
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She dares me to pour myself out like a living waterfall. She dares me to enter the soul that is more than my own; she extinguishes fear in mere seconds. She lets light come through.
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I always had the deepest affection for people who carried sublime tears in their silences.
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It is a thousand pities never to say what one feels.
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Women have burnt like beacons in all the works of all the poets from the beginning of time.
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I have lost friends, some by death, others by sheer inability to cross the street.
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