I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.

Shyness is a condition foreign to the heart - a category, a dimension which leads to loneliness.

Give me silence, water, hope Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.

I like on the table, when we're speaking, the light of a bottle of intelligent wine.

O merry, merry, merry, like only dogs know how to be happy and nothing more, with an absolute shameless nature.

Bitter love, a violet with it's crown of thorns in a thicet of spiky passions, spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come to conquer my soul? What brought you?