The poet is an untier of knots, and love without words is a knot, and it drowns.

Many things can wait. Children cannot. Today their bones are being formed, their blood is being made, their senses are being developed. To them we cannot say "tomorrow." Their name is today.

I have a faithful joy and a joy that is lost. One is like a rose, the other, a thorn. The one that was stolen I have not lost.

Love that stammers, that stutters, is apt to be the love that loves best.

Let the earth look at me, and bless me, for now I am fecund and sacred, like the palms and the furrows.

Writing tends to cheer me; it always soothes my spirit and blesses me with the gift of an innocent, tender, childlike day. It is the sensation of having spent a few hours in my homeland, with my customs, free whims, my total freedom.

For me, religiosity is ... the constant remembrance of the presence of the soul.