If life is misery, why do we endure it?

One should read Borges more.

If I were to say what I really think I would be arrested or shut away in a lunatic asylum. Come on, I am sure that it would be the same for everyone.

Poetry and prison have always been neighbors.

For her, reading was directly linked to pleasure, not to knowledge or enigmas or constructions or verbal labyrinths.

Of what is lost, irretrievably lost, all I wish to recover is the daily availability of my writing, lines capable of grasping me by the hair and lifting me up when I'm at the end of my strength. (Significant, said the foreigner.) Odes to the human and the divine. Let my writing be like the verses of by Leopardi that Daniel Biga recited on a Nordic bridge to gird himself with courage.

When people read his books they have an uncontrollable desire to hang the author in the town square. I can’t think of a higher honor for a writer.