There are reveries so deep, reveries which help us descend so deeply within ourselves that they rid us of our history. They liberate us from our name. These solitudes of today return us to the original solitudes.

Poetry is one of the destinies of speech... One would say that the poetic image, in its newness, opens a future to language.

It is not a question of observation which propels mankind forward as if toward a looking glass of great magnitude; it is an instance of aggrandized reflection that insinuates the human psyche to the inhuman.

The best proof of the specificity of the book is that it is at once a reality of the virtual and a virtuality of the real.

We believe we can also show that words do not have exactly the same psychic "weight" depending on whether they belong to the language of reverie or to the language of daylight life-to rested language or language under surveillance-to the language of natural poetry or to the language hammered out by authoritarian prosodies.

Happy is the man who knows or even the man who remembers those silent vigils where silence itself was the sign of the communion of souls!

A house that has been experienced is not an inert box. Inhabited space transcends geometrical space.