Antonio Porchia (November 13, 1885 – November 9, 1968) was an Argentinian poet. (wikipedia)
A hundred men together are the hundredth part of a man.
Not using faults does not mean that one does not have them.
When I do not walk in the clouds I walk as though I were lost.
There are sufferings that have lost their memory and do not remember why they are suffering.
Human suffering, while it is asleep, is shapeless. If it is wakened it takes the form of the waker.
More grievous than tears is the sight of them.
I would ask something more of this world, if it had something more.
I would go to heaven, but I would take my hell; I would not go alone.
A little candor never leaves me. It is what protects me.
Set out from any point. They are all alike. They all lead to a point of departure.