If you do not love me I shall not be loved If I do not love you I shall not love.

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Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.

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If there is one question I dread, to which I have never been able to invent a satisfactory reply, it is the question what am I doing.

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The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

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I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.

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Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.

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Perhaps that's what I feel, an outside and an inside and me in the middle, perhaps that's what I am, the thing that divides the world in two, on the one side the outside, on the other the inside, that can be as thin as foil, I'm neither one side nor the other, I'm in the middle, I'm the partition, I've two surfaces and no thickness, perhaps that's what I feel, myself vibrating, I'm the tympanum, on the one hand the mind, on the other the world, I don't belong to either.

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The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.

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With all this darkness round me I feel less alone.

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Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.

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