In reality art is always for everyone and for no one.

It has often been observed that the repercussion of poetic language on prose language can be considered a decisive cut of a whip.

Art is the production of objects for consumption, to be used and discarded while waiting for a new world in which man will have succeeded in freeing himself of everything, even of his own consciousness.

I do not go in search of poetry. I wait for poetry to visit me.

The poet does not know - often he will never know - whom he really writes for.

Today not even a universal fire could make the torrential poetic production of our time disappear. But it is exactly a question of production, that is, of hand-made products which are subject to the laws of taste and fashion.

The real history, the one that counts and is not to be found in books, is precisely this one, the one made by simple men; and it is the only one that rules the world.