The Only Virgos Left In The World

We'll Grow Old Waiting.

Thus They Went On Living In A Reality That Was Slipping Away, Momentarily Captured By Words, But Which Would Escape Irremediably When They Forgot The Values Of The Written Letters.

Surrealism Runs Through The Streets.

As A Writer I'm Merely A Journalist Who Has Learned To Write Better Than Others.

Necessity Has The Face Of A Dog.