Justice has to be motionless or else the scales will waver that and there is no possibility of a correct judgement.
Milena who is constantly discovering in herself that the only way to save another person is by being there and nothing else.
We don’t all share one body, but we do share growth, and that leads us through all pain, whether in this form or that.
This back and forth is getting worse all the time. At the office I live up to my outward duties, but not to my inner duties, and those unfulfilled duties grow into a permanent torment.
Loneliness is my only goal, my greatest temptation, my possibility and, if you can say that I have ‘organized’ my life, then it has been organized to make loneliness feel good.
For humans the idea of freedom is all too often a means of deceiving themselves. And although freedom is among the most exalted of feelings, so is the illusion of freedom among the most exalted of illusions.
Don’t be too optimistic, the light at the end of the tunnel might be a train.
Absurdo, completamente absurdo, una misma se confunde cuando juega con esos absurdos.
We’re only being punished because you reported us. Otherwise nothing would have happened to us, even if they found out what we did. Can that be called justice?
There are two cardinal sins from which all others spring: impatience and laziness. Because of impatience we were driven out of Paradise, because of laziness we cannot return. Perhaps, however, there is only one cardinal sin: impatience. Because of impatience we were driven out, because of impatience we cannot return.
Writing, when it springs from within, is like giving birth, and the child is covered in mucus.
There is only one truth, but it is alive and therefore has a vividly changing face.
This can be explained by my theory that living authors have a living relationship with their books. With their very existence they fight for or against them. The true, independent life of the book doesn’t begin until the death of the author, or more correctly some time after his death, for these zealous men keep struggling for their books even a while after they have died. But then the book is left all alone and has to rely on the strength of its own heartbeat.
After tormenting myself for a long time, I am stopping. I am unable and in the near future will scarcely be able to complete the remaining pieces.
I was ashamed of myself when I realised life was a costume party and I attended with my real face.
And I close my eyes to gaze into those depths, and am almost engulfed in you.
I was reading my destiny inside your eyes without knowing it.
I don’t need any proofs for you; there is nothing in my mind as clear and certain as you...
You aren’t tired at all, just restless, just afraid of taking one step on this Earth teeming with pitfalls, which is why you always keep both feet in the air at once, you aren’t tired, just afraid of the terrible fatigue which will follow this terrible restlessness...
All the love in the world is useless when there is a total lack of understanding.