Silent night, holy night, when the bough flies from the tree and is hung everywhere, when from tables … - Ingeborg Bachmann

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Success is. . . knowing your purpose in life, growing to reach your maximum potential, and sowing seeds that benefit others.

Ingeborg Bachmann

Silent night, holy night, when the bough flies from the tree and is hung everywhere, when from tables the crusts fly, when the gifts begin to tremble because lovelessness walks through the world, because it snarls at you, barks at you from the snow, and the silver ribbons rip and the tinsel rustles silvery, and the silver and gold, and a golden word come to you on which you choke because you have been sold and betrayed, and because it does not suffice that for you one is redeemed who once died.

Betrayed, Night, Ribbons, Rip, Snow

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I am writing with my burnt hand about the nature of fire.

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I myself am a person who has never resigned myself, who is absolutely never resigned, who can’t imagine it at all. I simply observe, and I observe in so many people, and often very quickly, a resignation that terrifies me, that’s it.

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For the facts that make up the world need the non-factual as a vantage point from which to be perceived.

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I don't take drugs, I take books.

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