Death Is The Mother Of Forms.

It Is The Revolution, The Magical Word, The Word That Is Going To Change Everything, That Is Going To Bring Us Immense Delight And A Quick Death.

Revolt Is The Violence Of An Entire People; Rebellion The Unruliness Of An Individual Or An Uprising By A Minority; Both Are Spontaneous And Blind. Revolution Is Both Planned And Spontaneous, A Science And An Art.

What Characterizes A Poem Is Its Necessary Dependence On Words As Much As Its Struggle To Transcend Them.

Man Does Not Speak Because He Thinks; He Thinks Because He Speaks. Or Rather, Speaking Is No Different Than Thinking: To Speak Is To Think.

Wisdom Lies Neither In Fixity Nor In Change, But In The Dialectic Between The Two.