I Seek The Real Stuff Of Life.

Societies In Decline Have No Use For Visionaries.

Creation Which Cannot Express Itself Becomes Madness.

One Handles Truths Like Dynamite.

You Are The Poet, You Walk Inside My Dreams.

We Three Belong To The Middle Ages. We Have This Need Of Heroism, And There Is No Place For Such Feelings In Modern Life. That Is Our Tragedy. Once I Wanted To Be A Saint. It Seemed The Only Absolute Act Left To Do, For What Is Most Powerful In Me Is The Craving For Purity, Greatness.