Before I travelled my road I was my road.
One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.
When I am asleep I dream what
I dream when I am awake.
You will find the distance that separates you from them, by joining them.
Sometimes I find that misery is so vast that I am afraid of needling it.
You think you are
Nothing is not only
A new pain enters and
the old pains of the household
They will say that you are on the wrong road, if it is your own.
I have come one step
away from everything.
Suffering does not follow us. It goes before us.
He who remains with himself a great deal becomes debased.