True paradise is not in heaven, but in the mouth of the beloved woman.
One of the glories of civilization would be to have improved the fate of animals.
Love a cloud, love a woman, but love.
Chance is the pseudonym of God when He doesn't want to sign.
To be born is just to begin to die.
To reduce the infinite to the finite, the unattainable to the humanly real, there is only one path: concentration.
When viewed in the darkroom of memory, things take on a singular relief.