The despondency that follows makes me feel somewhat like a shipwrecked man who spies a sail, sees himself saved, and suddenly remembers that the lens of his spyglass has a flaw, a blurred spot -- the sail he has seen.

What we need is hatred. From it our ideas are born.

The fame of heroes owes little to the extent of their conquests and all to the success of the tributes paid to them.

Power may be at the end of a gun, but sometimes it's also at the end of the shadow or the image of a gun.

Poetry is the break (or rather the meeting at the breaking point) between the visible and the invisible.

Solitude, as I understand it, does not signify an unhappy state, but rather secret royalty, profound incommunicability yet a more or less obscure knowledge of an invulnerable singularity.

I leave you free to imagine any dialogue you please. Choose whatever may charm you. Have it, if you like, that they hear the voice of the blood, or that they fall in love at first sight... Conceive the wildest improbabilities. Have it that the depths of their beings are thrilled at accosting each other in slang. Tangle them suddenly in a swift embrace or a brotherly kiss. Do whatever you like.