They say that dreams are a congestion of the imagination overburdened by the unsaid words, the acts not performed, the hate or love afecctions that we do not and will never express, and also by the not given kisses.
(Van den Borken)
For a human being, every fellow men should have imprinted on his brow a warning saying: “Very fragile, handle with care.” If it were not like this, if we all thought we are invulnerable and everlasting like Gods, who would worry about how to deal with everybody else?
Nothing can be done. Useless to keep up appearances. Just imagining you drives me wild. It leaves me this way, my face burning and my feet in puddles, breathless, without music, without anything.