When We Learn To Speak,

We Must Cultivate And Defend Particularity, Individuality, And Irregularity-life. Human Beings Do Not Have A Future In The Collectivism Of Bureaucratic States Or In The Mass Society Created By Capitalism. Every System, By Virtue As Much Of Its Abstract Nature As Of Its Pretension To Totality, Is The Enemy Of Life. As A Forgotten Spanish Poet, José Moreno Villa, Put It With Melancholy Wit: "i Have Discovered In Symmetry The Root Of Much Iniquity."

Poetry, In The Past, Was The Center Of Our Society, But With Modernity It Has Retreated To The Outskirts. I Think The Exile Of Poetry Is Also The Exile Of The Best Of Humankind.

The Woman Who Died Night After Night And Her Dying Was A Long Goodbye, A Train That Never Left.

Death Is The Mother Of Forms.

Literature Is The Expression Of A Feeling Of Deprivation, A Recourse Against A Sense Of Something Missing. But The Contrary Is Also True: Language Is What Makes Us Human. It Is A Recourse Against The Meaningless Noise And Silence Of Nature And History.