There is a destination but no way there; what we refer to as way is hesitation.
Photography concentrates one's eye on the superficial. For that reason it obscures the hidden life which glimmers through the outlines of things like a play of light and shade. One can't catch that even with the sharpest lens.
One reads in order to ask questions
I am always trying to convey something that can’t be conveyed, to explain something which is inexplicable, to tell about something I have in my bones, something which can be expressed only in the bones.
In me, by myself, without human relationship, there are no visible lies. The limited circle is pure.
The fact that there is nothing but a spiritual world deprives us of hope and gives us certainty.
I do not read advertisements. I would spend all of my time wanting things.
This morning, for the first time in a long time, the joy again of imagining a knife twisted in my heart.
Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.
I do not speak as I think, I do not think as I should, and so it all goes on in helpless darkness.
As far as I have seen, at school...they aimed at blotting out one's individuality.
Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects.
Maybe innocence makes its way easiest through the elemental chaos of this world.
People who walk across dark bridges, past saints, with dim, small lights. Clouds which move across gray skies past churches with towers darkened in the dusk. One who leans against granite railing gazing into the evening waters, His hands resting on old stones.
Writing means revealing oneself to excess.
My 'fear' is my substance, and probably the best part of me.
The whole visible world is perhaps nothing other than a motivation of man's wish to rest for a moment an attempt to falsify the fact of knowledge, to try to turn the knowledge into the goal.
Evil is whatever distracts.
Adam's first domestic pet after the expulsion from Paradise was the serpent.
I am more uncertain than I ever was; I feel only the power of life. And I am senselessly empty.
sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man the most guilty.
If something good has lost its way into you, it will make its escape overnight. I know you.
The spirit becomes free only when it ceases to be a support.
The right understanding of any matter and a misunderstanding of the same matter do not wholly exclude each other.
In argument similes are like songs in love; they describe much, but prove nothing.
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