“Our love was born outside the walls, in the wind, in the night, in the earth, and that’s why the clay and the flower, the mud and the roots know your name.”

Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.

Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.

Let us forget with generosity those who cannot love us.

The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance.

Give me silence, water, hope. Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.

Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens.

Love is the mystery of water and a star.

It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.

My feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping but I shall go on living.

If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life.

While I’m writing, I’m far away; and when I come back, I’ve gone.

The birds of night peck at the first stars that flash like my soul when I love you.

Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.

In one kiss, you’ll know all I haven’t said.

Love! Love until the night collapses!

The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.

You were born where you were born and faced the future that you faced because you were black and for no other reason.

Revolutions are not born of chance but of necessity.

We are all born sexual creatures, thank God, but it’s a pity so many people despise and crush this natural gift.

No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion.

No single event can awaken within us a stranger whose existence we had never suspected. To live is to be slowly born.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.

Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.

No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny.