Certainties Are Arrived At Only On Foot.

More Grievous Than Tears Is The Sight Of Them.

I Love You As You Are, But Do Not Tell Me How That Is.

Without This Ridiculous Vanity That Takes The Form Of Self-display, And Is Part Of Everything And Everyone, We Would See Nothing, And Nothing Would Exist.

I Keep My Hands Empty For The Sake Of What I Have Had In Them.

If Only I Could Leave Everything As It Is, Without Moving A Single Star Or A Single Cloud. Oh, If Only I Could!