Poetry is also the physical self of the poet, and it is impossible to separate the poet from his poetry.

We wrote verses that condemned us, with no hope of pardon, to the most bitter solitude.

The poet's spoken discourse often depends on a mystique, on the spiritual freedom that finds itself enslaved on earth.

From the night, his solitude, the poet finds day and starts a diary that is lethal to the inert. The dark landscape yields a dialogue.

War, I have always said, forces men to change their standards, regardless of whether their country has won or lost.

The writer of stories or of novels settles on men and imitates them; he exhausts the possibilities of his characters.

A poet clings to his own tradition and avoids internationalism.