To love is to battle, to open doors, to cease to be a ghost with a number forever in chains, forever condemned by a faceless master; the world changes if two look at each other and see.

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Eroticism is first and foremost a thirst for otherness. And the supernatural is the supreme otherness. This is perhaps the most noble aim of poetry, to attach ourselves to the world around us, to turn desire into love, to embrace, finally what always evades us, what is beyond, but what is always there – the unspoken, the spirit, the soul.

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To read a poem is to hear it with our eyes; to hear it is to see it with our ears.

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Love is born at first sight; the friendship of a frequent and lengthy exchange.

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Deserve your dream.

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Every moment is nothing without end.

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Love is an attempt at penetrating another being, but it can only succeed if the surrender is mutual.

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Beyond myself, somewhere, I wait for my arrival.

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What sets worlds in motion is the interplay of differences, their attractions and repulsions. Life is plurality, death is uniformity. By suppressing differences and pecularities, by eliminating different civilizations and cultures, progress weakens life and favors death. The ideal of a single civilization for everyone, implicit in the cult of progress and technique, impoverishes and mutilates us. Every view of the world that becomes extinct, every culture that disappears, diminishes a possibility of life

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To love is to undress our names.

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