“And whatever I do will become forever what I’ve done.”

Whatever inspiration is, it’s born from a continuous “I don’t know.

At the very beginning of my creative life I loved humanity. I wanted to do something good for mankind. Soon I understood that it isn’t possible to save mankind.

You can find the entire cosmos lurking in its least remarkable objects.

I’m fighting against the bad poet who is prone to using too many words.

Secret codes resound. Doubts and intentions come to light.

Any knowledge that doesn’t lead to new questions quickly dies out: it fails to maintain the temperature required for sustaining life.

God was finally going to believe in a man both good and strong, but good and strong are still two different men.

My choices are rejections, since there is no other way, but what I reject is more numerous, denser, more demanding than before. A little poem, a sigh, at the cost of indescribable losses.

Existentialists are monumentally and monotonously serious; they don’t like to joke.

Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.

I’m one-time-only to the marrow of my bones.

Even boredom should be described with gusto. How many things are happening on a day when nothing happens?

They say the first sentence in any speech is always the hardest. Well, that one’s behind me, anyway.

Nothing’s a gift, it’s all on loan.

I am who I am. A coincidence no less unthinkable than any other.

The joy of writing. The power of preserving. Revenge of a mortal hand.

If a child has not been taught to behave properly by the age of four, it will forever be difficult for him or her to make friends.

Why are you forever on my mind? Even though I’m the one you left behind.

I never knew love till my eyes met yours and I saw me forever in the reflection.

There is so much inside of me I feel as if I will be writing forever.

Those places will never be the same they are forever intertwined with the thought of you.

Some things hurt forever.

You are more than just come overs to bend over, constant forgiveness, and second chances. You are not just a good time. You are more than being enough when it only suits them. Because you are more than just to be loved temporarily. When there are others who look at you as forever.

We were supposed to be, even if we can’t be.