Tell me, whom do you love most, you enigmatic man: your father, your mother, your sister or your brother? I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother. Your friends? You ‘re using a word I’ve never understood. Your country? I don’t know where that might lie. Beauty? I would love her with all my heart, if only she were a goddess and immortal. Money? I hate it as you hate God. Well then, what do you love, you strange outsider? I love the clouds … the clouds that pass by … over there … over there … those lovely clouds!
