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One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.
Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.
We become aware of the void as we fill it.
I know what I have given you...
I do not know what you have received.
I love you as you are, but do not tell me how that is.
Set out from any point. They are all alike. They all lead to a point of departure.
I have come one step away from everything.
And here I stay, far from everything,
one step away.
I would go to heaven, but I would take my hell; I would not go alon.
He who has seem everything empty itself is close
to knowing what everything is filled with.
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