To sing you must first open your mouth. You must have a pair of lungs, and a little knowledge of music. It is not necessary to have an accordion, or a guitar. The essential thing is to want to sing. This then is a song. I am singing.

I need to be alone. I need to ponder my shame and my despair in seclusion; I need the sunshine and the paving stones of the streets without companions, without conversation, face to face with myself, with only the music of my heart for company.

Honest criticism means nothing: what one wants is unrestrained passion, fire for fire.

I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive.

Dedication is not what others expect of you, it is what you can give to others.

What is not in the open street is false, derived, that is to say, literature.

Whatever I do is done out of sheer joy; I drop my fruits like a ripe tree. What the general reader or the critic makes of them is not my concern.