But only a brief moment is granted to the brave one breath or two, whose wage is the long nights of the grave.

Life is a struggle and not a matter of privilege. It is nothing but one's knowledge of the temporal and the spiritual world.

God is not a dead equation!

From your past emerges the present, and from the present is born your future.

If the object of poetry is, to make men, then poetry is the heir of prophecy.

Since love first made the breast an instrument Of fierce lamenting, by its flame my heart Was molten to a mirror, like a rose I pluck my breast apart, that I may hang This mirror in your sight.

Preserve your history and become everlasting; receive new life from the times that have gone by.