http://pure.dswarmsikhttkg7jgsoyfiqpj3ighupfrvuz5ri3lu5q2dlqyrpgk7ad.onion/posts/quotes.html
Anyone who has reflected on language in solitude while listening to countless books without the schoolroom reflections of the corrector-a man elevated by two podium steps-is truly too happy. There are no poetic souls without manifold, prolonged echoes, echoes on echoes, without an essential multihumanism, a word heard in plains and woods, in the infinite and in the hermitage, in light and shadow, tenderness and anger.