Perhaps somewhere, someplace deep inside your being, you have undergone important changes while you were sad.

Poetic power is great, strong as a primitive instinct; it has its own unyielding rhythms in itself and breaks out as out of mountains.

And you should not let yourself be confused in your solitude by the fact that there is something in you that wants to move out of it.

You must change your life.

It is part of the nature of every definitive love that sooner or later it can reach the beloved only in infinity.

I never read anything concerning my work. I feel that criticism is a letter to the public which the author, since it is not directed to him, does not have to open and read.

Perhaps creating something is nothing but an act of profound remembrance.