I write and that way rid myself of me and then at last I can rest.

I am finding myself: it's deadly because only death concludes me. But I bear it until the end. I'll tell you a secret: life is deadly. I'll have to interrupt everything to tell you this: death is the impossible and intangible. Death is just future to such an extent that there are those who cannot bear it and commit suicide. It's as life said the following: and there simply was no following.

Do not mourn the dead. They know what they are doing.

And now -- now it only remains for me to light a cigarette and go home. Dear God, only now am I remembering that people die. Does that include me?Don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.

but the crime is more important than the punishment. I enliven all of me in my happy instinct for destruction.

Inside her it was as if death didn’t exist, as if love could weld her, as if eternity were renewal.

Long live the dead because we live in them.