This terrifying world is not devoid of charms, of the mornings that make waking up worthwhile.

You can find the entire cosmos lurking in its least remarkable objects.

In the language of poetry, where every word is weighed, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all, not a single existence, not anyone's existence in this world.

My choices are rejections, since there is no other way, but what I reject is more numerous, denser, more demanding than before. A little poem, a sigh, at the cost of indescribable losses.

No one in my family has ever died of love. What happened, happened, but nothing myth-inspiring.

Poorly prepared for the dignity of life, I barely keep up with the pace of the action imposed. Reality demands.

Generally speaking, life is so rich and full of variety; you have to remember all the time that there is a comical side to everything.