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

True poetry is similar to certain pictures whose owner is unknown and which only a few initiated people know.

Holidays - Have no pity.

There is also poetry written to be shouted in a square in front of an enthusiastic crowd. This occurs especially in countries where authoritarian regimes are in power.

This proves that great lyric poetry can die, be reborn, die again, but will always remain one of the most outstanding creations of the human soul.

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.

Man cannot produce a single work without the assistance of the slow, assiduous, corrosive worm of thought.