In the darkness of our lives, there is not one place for Beauty. The whole place is for Beauty.

How did writing come to me? Like bird’s down on my windowpane, in winter. Just then there rose in the heart a struggle of firebrands, which has, still now, not ended.

I believe in the magic and in the authority of words

I believe in the magic and authority of words.

Desire, desire which knows, we draw no advantage from our shadows except from some veritable sovereignties accompanied by invisible flames, invisible chains, which, coming to light, step after step, cause us to shine.

LONG LIVE…This country is but a wish of the spirit, a counter-sepulcher.In my country, tender proofs of spring and badly dressed birds are preferred to far-off goals.Truth waits for dawn beside a candle. Window glass...

The oriole entered the capital of dawn. The sword of his song closed the sad bed.Everything forever ended.