Absence is a genuine absence and not merely an absence of what is present even if what is present is truly absent... it is rather the absence of both absence and presence.

Absence is the common cure of love.

Absence is the death of love.

Absence is love's foe: far from the eyes, far from the heart.

Distance is the soul of beauty.

Distance is the only cure for certain diseases.

Distance is nothing to the lover — Who travels for love finds a thousand miles not longer than one.

Distance is, in modernity, short in terms of length and yet ever remote to us. What is vastly far away in terms of length, can be near to us. Short distance is not already nearness. Great distance is not yet remoteness.

The Echo is the voice of a reflection in a mirror.

Echo is being’s call of distress into the present.

Echo is that which, by exposing us to modernity’s deep distress, also launches the other beginning of philosophy.

Echo is the scream of forgotten being from amidst the reign of technology.

The Farewell is the first step towards reunion.

The Farewell is a bitter word to say.

The Farewell is the most intimate form of human togetherness.