The slowness of time, for a man who knows nothing will happen, is brutal.

All sins have their origin in a sense of inferiority otherwise called ambition.

Remember, writing poetry is like making love: one will never know whether one's own pleasure is shared.

You need a village, if only for the pleasure of leaving it. A village means that you are not alone, knowing that in the people, the trees, the earth, there is something that belongs to you, waiting for you when you are not there.

The closing years of life are like the end of a masquerade party, when the masks are dropped.

But here's the worst part: the trick to life lies in hiding from those we hold most dear how much they mean to is; if not, we'd lose them.

Literature is a defense against the attacks of life. It says to life: You can't deceive me. I know your habits, foresee and enjoy watching all your reactions, and steal your secret by involving you in cunning obstructions that halt your normal flow.