It is only through the confining act of writing that the immensity of the nonwritten becomes legible

Melancholy is sadness that has taken on lightness.

seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space

It was the hour in which objects lose the consistency of shadow that accompanies them during the night and gradually reacquire colors, but seem to cross meanwhile an uncertain limbo, faintly touched, just breathed on by light; the hour in which one is least certain of the world's existence.

It is within you that the ghosts acquire voices.

Literature remains alive only if we set ourselves immeasurable goals, far beyond all hope of achievement. Only if poets and writers set themselves tasks that no one else dares imagine will literature continue to have a function.

Elsewhere is a negative mirror. The traveler recognizes the little that is his, discovering the much he has not had and will never have.