It is always difficult to give oneself up; few persons anywhere ever succeed in doing so, and even fewer transcend the possessive stage to know love for what it actually is: a perpetual discovery, and immersion in the waters of reality, an unending re-creation.

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For every language that becomes extinct, an image of man disappears.

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Beyond happiness or unhappiness, though it is both things, love is intensity; it does not give us eternity but life, that second in which the doors of time and space open just a crack: here is there and now is always.

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The world is born when two people kiss

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Poetry is not truth, it is the resurrection of presences.

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Beyond myself, somewhere, I wait for my arrival.

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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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A civilization that denies death ends by denying life.

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Each time we try to express ourselves we have to break with ourselves.

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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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