I Do Not Like To "interest" The

We Swung Between Madness And Suicide ... It Was Beautiful!

Once One Has Kissed A Cadaver's Forehead, There Always Remains Something Of It On The Lips, An Infinite Bitterness, An Aftertasteof Nothingness That Nothing Can Erase.

Farming -- A Vocation Accursed Of Heaven, Since One Never Saw A Millionaire Involved In It.

I Live Absolutely Like An Oyster.

Tout Ce Qu'on Invente Est Vrai, Soi-en Sure. La Poesie Est Une Chose Aussi Precise Que La Geometrie.