Then at certain moments I remember one of his words and I suddenly feel the sensual woman flaring up, as if violently caressed. I say the word to myself, with joy. It is at such a moment that my true body lives.

I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ

We speak of the masculine and the feminine, but they are the wrong labels. It is really more a matter of poetry versus intellectualization.

Self-destructive patterns cause as much suffering as outer catastrophes.

There is no bleaker moment in life of the city than that one which crosses the boundary lines between those who have not slept all night and those who are going to work. It was for Sabina as if two races of men and women lived on earth, the night people and the day people, never meeting face to face except at this moment.

... and the very folds of the curtains contained secrets and sighs.

The poet is one who is able to keep the fresh vision of the child alive.