I Am Not Innocent. Innocence

The Only Book That Is Worth Writing Is The One We Don’t Have The Courage Or Strength To Write. The Book That Hurts Us (we Who Are Writing), That Makes Us Tremble, Redden, Bleed

I Do Believe In Poetry. I Believe That There Are Creatures Endowed With The Power To Put Things Together And Bring Them Back To Life

I Am Sick Of Death And Worst Of All This Sickness Feeds On Itself, The More Afraid I Am The More I Am Afraid The More I Flee The More I Am Afraid The More I Am Haunted.

Perhaps What I Do Not Manage To Operate Rapidly Enough Is The Passage Between The Outside And The Inside.

Thinking Is Trying To Think The Unthinkable: Thinking The Thinkable Is Not Worth The Effort.