Ah, if I were dictator I'd have poets throwing bombs!

I remember the people I knew in prison; I was very fortunate to know them - they came from 1910, 1920, 1930.

The lucky thing was that I was Italian; when the other Italians saw me fight back, they came to my defence.

I feel capitol punishment is dooming U.S.A.

The fall of man stands a lie before Beethoven, a truth before Hitler.

Spirit is Life. It flows thru the death of me endlessly like a river unafraid of becoming the sea.

It is a great feeling to know that from a window I can go to books to cans of beer to past loves. And from these gather enough dream to sneak out a back door.