Falsehood Is Never In Words;

You Walk For Days Among Trees And Among Stones. Rarely Does The Eye Light On A Thing, And Then Only When It Has Recognized That Thing As The Sign Of Another Thing: A Print In The Sand Indicates The Tiger's Passage; A Marsh Announces A Vein Of Water; The Hibiscus Flower, The End Of Winter. All The Rest Is Silent And Interchangeable; Trees And Stones Are Only What They Are.

Melancholy Is Sadness That Has Taken On Lightness.

Every Choice Has Its Obverse, That Is To Say A Renunciation, And So There Is No Difference Between The Act Of Choosing And The Act Of Renouncing

You Take Delight Not In A City's Seven Or Seventy Wonders, But In The Answer It Gives To A Question Of Yours.

A Human Being Becomes Human Not Through The Casual Convergence Of Certain Biological Conditions, But Through An Act Of Will And Love On The Part Of Other People.