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.
It's a continuous dream.

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 killing me.
I think you are committing suicide.

Nothing is not only nothing.
It is also our prision.

A new pain enters and the old pains of the household
receive it  with their silence, 
not with their death.

They will say that you are on the wrong road,
 if it is your own.

I have come one step away from everything.
And here I stay, far from everything,
one step away.

Suffering does not follow us. It goes before us.

He who remains with himself a great deal becomes debased.