We Tear Life Out Of Life To

My Truths Do Not Last Long In Me. Not As Long As Those That Are Not Mine.

My Poverty Is Not Complete: It Lacks Me.

I Believe That The Soul Consists Of Its Sufferings. For The Soul That Cures Its Own Sufferings Dies.

The Real "it Is Well" Is Something I Say From The Ground, Having Fallen.

Beyond My Body My Veins Are Invisible.