Kindle Notes & Highlights
Someone had once dreamt of a butterfly. When he awoke, he wondered whether it was actually the butterfly that had dreamt of him.
My desire brought me all the way to your door, where’s the strength now to go back to my own?
What is autumn? And what do they call spring, for that matter? We survive in our cages round the year, still we sing our laments, we could fly once upon a time.
