Sometimes the purpose is wild and you feel like bursting, because you suddenly realize that your life was meaningless and miserable, unworthy of a human being; and sometimes the purpose is sad, and you feel that life is passing and slipping through your fingers like sand, and there is no salvation.

My soul goes back and forth, from one end of my chest to the other, like a shuttle, and weaves.
It weaves these few months that I will spend in Crete, and God forgive me, but I think I am happy.

Confucius says: "Many seek happiness higher than man; others lower; but happiness is at the height of man."
Correct. There are as many happinesses as there are human heights. This is, my dear student and teacher, my happiness now; I measure it, I remeasure it anxiously, to find out what my height is now.
Because you know well, the height of a person does not always remain the same.
How it changes, depending on the climate, the silence, the loneliness or the companionship, the soul of a person!