Remember, Writing Poetry Is Like Making Love:

At Great Periods You Have Always Felt, Deep Within You, The Temptation To Commit Suicide. You Gave Yourself To It, Breached Your Own Defenses. You Were A Child. The Idea Of Suicide Was A Protest Against Life; By Dying, You Would Escape This Longing For Death.

Misfortunes Cannot Suffice To Make A Fool Into An Intelligent Man.

There Comes A Day When, For Someone Who Has Persecuted Us, We Feel Only Indifference, A Weariness At His Stupidity. Then We Forgive Him.

The Art Of Living Is The Art Of Knowing How To Believe Lies. The Fearful Thing About It Is That, Not Knowing What Truth May Be, We Can Still Recognize Lies.

Childhood Is Not Only The Childhood We Really Had But Also The Impressions We Formed Of It In Our Adolescence And Maturity. That Is Why Childhood Seems So Long. Probably Every Period Of Life Is Multiplied By Our Reflections Upon The Next.