Past and future monopolize the poet’s sensory and intellectual faculties, detached from the immediate spectacle. These two philtres become utterly clear the moment one stops being hypnotized by the cloudy precipitate constituted by the world of today.

In the world we live in everything militates in favor of things that have not yet happened, of things that will never happen again.

To see, to hear, means nothing. To recognize (or not to recognize) means everything.

Keep reminding yourself that literature is one of the saddest roads that leads to everything.

The art of Frida Kahlo is a ribbon around a bomb.

May night continue to fall upon the orchestra

What is admirable about the fantastic is that there is no longer anything fantastic: there is only the real.