To see you naked is to recall the Earth.

At the heart of all great art is an essential melancholy.

As I have not worried to be born, I do not worry to die.

My head is full of fire and grief and my tongue runs wild, pierced with shards of glass.

Only mystery allows us to live, only mystery.

The terrible thing is that the crowd that fills the street believes that the world will always be the same and that it is their duty to keep that huge machine running, day and night, forever. This is what comes of a Protestant morality, that I, as a (thank God) typical Spaniard, found unnerving.

The important thing in life is to let the years carry us along.