Without resistance you can do nothing
Poetry, being elegance itself, cannot hope to achieve visibility... It insists on living its own life.
The runner stopped dead, lost his balance, froze in one of those violent attitudes in which the photographers petrify living reality.
If it has to choose who is to be crucified, the crowd will always save Barabbas.
A picture is not a window...an abstract refers to no reality but its own.
Poetry is a religion with no hope.