In their choice of lovers both the male and the female reveal their essential nature. The type of human being we prefer reveals the contours of our heart. Love is an impulse which springs from the most profound depths of our beings, and upon reaching the visible surface of life carries with it an alluvium of shells and seaweed from the inner abyss. A skilled naturalist, by filing these materials, can reconstruct the oceanic depths from which they have been uprooted.

Why write if this too easy activity of pushing a pen across paper is not given a certain bullfighting risk and we do not approach dangerous, agile and two-horned topics?

In order to master the unruly torrent of life the learned man meditates, the poet quivers, and the political hero erects the fortress of his will.

The hero's will is not that of his ancestors nor of his society, but his own. This will to be oneself is heroism.

Order is not pressure which is imposed on society from without, but an equilibrium which is set up from within.

Love is exclusivity, selection.

We live at a time when man believes himself fabulously capable of creation, but he does not know what to create.