Inspiration is not the exclusive privilege of poets or artists. There is, there has been, there will always be a certain group of people whom inspiration visits. It's made up of all those who've consciously chosen their calling and do their job with love and imagination. Difficulties and setbacks never quell their curiosity. A swarm of new questions emerges from every problem that they solve. Whatever inspiration is, it's born from a continuous 'I don't know.'

I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.

They say the first love's most important. That's very romantic, but not my experience.

No day copies yesterday, no two nights will teach what bliss is in precisely the same way, with precisely the same kisses.

Secret codes resound. Doubts and intentions come to light.

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.

I started earning a living as a poet rather early on.