Occupation: Writer Birth: July 2, 1926 Death: May 7, 2007
We start to die when we no longer have the power to choose..
Next to the highest peak of happiness, there’s the deepest gap of pain..
Time is a beast who has the immense patience to swallow everything..
A life without love is like a year without spring..
There is no wilderness. There is only our inability to fill the emptiness in which we live..
The others wolves would devour me if they could know that my roar is, in reality, a crying..