My love, I fear the silence of your hands.

Have I had two roads, I would have chosen their third.

I love women whose hidden desires make horses put an end to their lives at the threshold

I believe in the power of poetry, which gives me reasons to look ahead and identify a glint of light.

When a writer declares that his first book is his best, that is bad. I progress successively from book to book.

Against barbarity, poetry can resist only by confirming its attachment to human fragility like a blade of grass growing on a wall while armies march by.

Standing here, staying here, permanent here, eternal here, and we have one goal, one, one: to be.