And I Said To Myself: That's True,

And As We Stray Further From Love, We Multiply The Words. Had We Remained Together We Could Have Become A Silence.

I Try To Stay A Civilian, To Live As A Human, Not As A Poet.

I Think The End Is Endless. It's Either A Big Black Hole Or A Big White Light Or Both Together. But It's Totally Meaningless, Because Even If Someone Would Explain It, I Wouldn't Understand It.

The Memory Of My Father Is Wrapped Up In White Paper, Like Sandwiches Taken For A Day Of Work. Just As A Magician Takes Towers And Rabbits Out Of His Hat, He Drew Love From His Small Body.

It Was Not An Adventure; It Was My Life.