You don’t know anything, but I know even less.

Neruda had his first dream, First meeting with the Moon and the Sun In sunny La Mancha, hiding in his heart,Where he learned how to sing like a nightingale.

Long ago an uncalled rain fell and a called-upon God stayed equally distant.

From what you didn’t say, lies that you did say.

No reason for a feverish rush For we will all arrive in the same place At the right time. Justice will be served. There will be no better or worse, No big and small, no...

They blossomed, they did not talk about blossoming.

Now that we are all so smart, we don’t easily find resolutions.

He did not profess to anybody how to reach others without professing.

When the star dies, Its eye closes; tired of watching, It flies back to its first bright dream.

Fly without wings; Dream with open eyes; See in darkness.

Wherever I go, I run into myself.

Will the day tell its secret Before it disappears, Becomes timeless night.

Good is not always good.

To accomplish the perfect perfection, a little imperfection helps.

Nobility is not only in forgiveness.

We hear only our own voices, still echoes returning to our emptiness.

Stars are only the rain of the Absolute.

In the essence of truth lies deceit.

The world is God’s salvation.

Creators of history always play with our impotence and our ignorance.

Life eats life to live.

In the end, the world returns to a grain.

Nothing reminds us of an awakening more than rain.

Great poets are great copy editors.

The light teaches you to convert life into a festive promenade.

Teaching others, he corrected himself.

We grow from our dreams.

Words rich in meaning can be cheap in sound effects.

Total knowledge is annihilation Of the desire to see, to touch, to feel The world sensed only through senses And immune to the knowledge without feeling.

Don Quixote is not an imaginary person; he is as real as Alexander the Great.

I lose faith in mathematics, logical and rigid. What with those that even zero doesn’t accept?

There is always the question why And there is always life, Which doesn’t need an answer.

They grew; they did not talk about growing.

Holy books are an insult to a God with good intentions.

Through words to the meaning of thoughts with no words.

If birth is a manifestation of life, death is another.

A hidden spark of the dream sleeps In the forest and waits In the celestial spheres of the brain.

One hand I extend into myself, the other toward others.

To the knights of faith nobody believes.

The eyesight for an eagle is what thought is to a man.

Trying too hard to be too good, even when trying to be bad, is too good for the bad, too bad for the good.

There are countless circles of hell; believers never penetrate the ninth circle.

How many unuttered words died in the heads of those for whom a word was too expensive.

Procreation annihilates eternity.

In a myriad of ways you tell one truth.

New Rome will be destroyedBy the attacks of new vandals.God always remains silent.

History will be erased in the universal purgatory.

And this that you call solitude is in fact a big crowd.

There is a pledge of the big and of the small in the infinite.

Possible is more a matter of attitude, A matter of decision, to choose Among the impossible possibilities, When one sound opportunity Becomes a possible solution.