The Slowness Of Time, For A Man

Remember, Writing Poetry Is Like Making Love: One Will Never Know Whether One's Own Pleasure Is Shared.

Perfect Behaviour Is Born Of Complete Indifference.

If It Were Possible To Have A Life Absolutely Free From Every Feeling Of Sin, What A Terrifying Vacuum It Would Be.

If It Is True That One Gets Used To Suffering, How Is It That As The Years Go One Always Suffers More? No, They Are Not Mad, Those People Who Amuse Themselves, Enjoy Life, Travel, Make Love, Fight They Are Not Mad. We Should Like To Do The Same Ourselves.

To Avenge A Wrong Done To You, Is To Rob Yourself Of The Comfort Of Crying Out Against The Injustice Of It.