Perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I should simply recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.

Everything tends to make us believe that there exists a certain point of the mind at which life and death, the real and the imagined, past and future, the communicable and the incommunicable, high and low, cease to be perceived as contradictions.

If I place love above everything, it is because for me it is the most desperate, the most despairing state of affairs imaginable.

Love is when you meet someone who tells you something new about yourself.