My desk, most loyal friend thank you. You've been with me on every road I've taken. My scar and my protection.

My desk, most loyal friend thank you. You've been with me on every road I've taken. My scar and my protection.

A deception that elevates us is dearer than a host of low truths.

I want to sleep with you, fall asleep and sleep. That magnificent folk word, how deep, how true, how unequivocal, how exactly what it says. Just – sleep. And nothing more. No, another thing: and know right into the deepest sleep that it is you. And more: how your heart sounds. And – kiss your heart.

There are books so alive that you're always afraid that while you weren't reading, the book has gone and changed, has shifted like a river.

Who sleeps at night? No one is sleeping.

In the cradle a child is screaming.

An old man sits over his death, and anyone

young enough talks to his love, breathes

into her lips, looks into her eyes.