The one who has children has branches – cannot fit in a sole waiting, a single silence.

Judging the existence by comparison is not always the best pathway to progress.

In this profound silence of the room I hear Nature breathing; I feel the stars slipping though the dark, very tight, bounded masses of matter. The Universe is beating its life through my heart.

It is hard to understand the life of the poor when you yourself never experienced the poverty that you have to share with your children, their eyes, sickness, dreams.

Our arms carry our kids forever – they are our only living fruit (even when we are no more or when they are no more).

What answer do you give to silence? Who there hears the solitude of so many people? Of so many other creatures?