The beloved is already in our being, as thirst and "otherness." Being is eroticism. Inspiration is that strange voice that takes man out of himself to be every thing that he is, everything that he desires; another body, another being. Beyond, outside of me, in the green and gold thicket, among the tremulous branches, sings the unknown. It calls to me.

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Light is time thinking about itself.

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My body, plowed by your body, will turn into a field where one is sown and a hundred reaped.

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I don't believe that there are dangerous writers: the danger of certain books is not in the books themselves but in the passions of their readers.

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Beyond myself, somewhere, I wait for my arrival.

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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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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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Modern man likes to pretend that his thinking is wide-awake. But this wide-awake thinking has led us into the mazes of a nightmare in which the torture chambers are endlessly repeated in the mirrors of reason.

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A flower without a stem, is beauty waiting to die. A heart without love, is a tear waiting to cry.

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Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone.

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