Without Hope We Are Lost.

Poetry Is Perhaps What Teaches Us To Nurture The Charming Illusion: How To Be Reborn Out Of Ourselves Over And Over Again, And Use Words To Construct A Better World, A Fictitious World That Enables Us To Sign A Pact For A Permanent And Comprehensive Peace ... With Life.

I Love Women Whose Hidden Desires Make Horses Put An End To Their Lives At The Threshold

I Don't Decide To Represent Anything Except Myself. But That Self Is Full Of Collective Memory.

The Days Have Taught You Not To Trust Happiness Because It Hurts When It Deceives.

When I Passed The Age Of 50, I Learned How To Control My Emotions.