Tomorrow the mirrors will mock me

You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.

Song falls silent, music is dumb, But the air burns with their fragrance, And white winter, on its knees, Observes everything with reverent attention.

I marvel at everything as if it were new.

If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly, and my low spirits would brighten up.

And in the depths of music, I didn’t find the answer, And again there was silence, and again the ghost of summer.

I know: yes, no, even I must tear offThe delicate daisy petals.Everyone on earth is destined to feelThe torments of love.

I’m not weeping, I’m not complaining, Happiness is not for me.

But I am not allowed to forgetThe taste of the tears of yesterday.

I defendNot my voice, but my silence

And you know, I agree to everything:I will condemn, I will forget, I will give comfort to the enemy, Darkness will be light and sin lovely.

I'd rather be poor to my bones than be rich with your money, that is like a trigger, ready to be pulled in my face.

Let authenticity ignite your brilliance and dignify your craft.

I - and I still consider myself, I'm sorry to tell you, a Marxist and a Communist, but I couldn't help noticing how all the best Marxist analyses are always analyses of a failure.

Ryan Gosling. He was a good kid, good actor. I like him very much. What was the name of the movie? I've forgotten it. Fracture.

be yourself- not your idea of what you think somebody else's idea of yourself should be.

Passions are no more forgiving than human laws and they reason more justly. Are they not based on a conscience of their own, infallible as an instinct?

His feelings are warm, but I can imagine them rather changeable.

Open your heart to a baseball team and you're liable to get it broken.

Words are the coins making up the currency of sentences, and there are always too many small coins.