The window has a wonderful view of a lake, but the view doesn't view itself. It exists in this world colorless, shapeless, soundless, odorless, and painless.

We call it a grain of sand but it calls itself neither grain nor sand. It does just fine without a name, whether general, particular, permanent, passing, incor…

There's no life that couldn't be immortal if only for a moment. Death always arrives by that very moment too late. In vain it tugs at the knob of the invisible…

Show me your little poem and I'll tell you why it wasn't written any earlier or later than it was. Oh no, you've got me wrong. Keep your funny piece of paper w…