Out of a hundred years a few minutes were made that stayed with me, not a hundred years. See image Antonio Porchia
When the superficial wearies me, it wearies me so much that I need an abyss in order to rest. See image Antonio Porchia
You do not see the river of mourning because it lacks one tear of your own. See image Antonio Porchia
If only I could leave everything as it is, without moving a single star or a single cloud. Oh, if only I could! See image Antonio Porchia