we interpret life at moments of the deepest desperation.

I'm an educated man, the prisons I know are subtle ones.

We never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain.

When you die of sorrow it's as if you've broken all the bones in your body, bruised yourself all over, cracked your skull. That's sorrow.

Jesus is the masterpiece. The thieves are minor works. Why are they there? Not to frame the crucifixion, as some innocent souls believe, but to hide it.

There is a time for reciting poems and a time for fists.

Poetry is the one thing that isn't contaminated, the one thing that isn't part of the game.