The woman bent down to pick up the fallen pomegranate from the grass. It was ripe, it had burst open in the fall, stained her white dress. The vision of the laden barge, the pale island, the flowery meadow returned to her loving spirit along with the Creator’s words: ‘This is my body... Take and eat...

It was the beginning of June; summer was arising out of spring, like an aloe from a field of grass.

Until now I have never really lived! Life on earth is a creeping, crawling business. It is in the air that one feels the glory of being a man and of conquering the elements. There is an exquisite smoothness of motion and the joy of gliding through space. It is wonderful!

Vivere ardendo e non bruciarsi mai.

Vivo in una solitudine selvaggia e raffinata, misera e opulenta, dove le passioni ardono s’inceneriscono riardono incessantemente.

I cannot understand why the poets of our day wax indignant at the vulgarity of their age and complain of having come into the world too early or too late. I believe that every man of intellect can create his own beautiful fable of life.

Limit to courage? There is no limit to courage.

Devíamos sempre aprender a amar-nos; é o único romance que dura a vida inteira.

In faith I hear a whisper in the air as it sweeps:secrets sparkling from the waters unto the shore;but the wind does not stir upon the deeps,the poets' mandolas play no more.

Memento audere semper. Et ventis adversis.