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

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers.

Poetry arrived in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don’t know how or when.

Laughter is the language of the soul.

When I sleep every night, what am I called or not called? And when I wake, who am I if I was not I while I slept?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

We must dream our way.

Shyness is a condition foreign to the heart – a category, a dimension which leads to loneliness.

In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.

Joyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy with only the autonomy of their shameless spirit.

I have never thought of my life as divided between poetry and politics.

Conspirators in pajamas who exchange deep kisses for passwords.

A book, a book full of human touches, of shirts, a book without loneliness, with men and tools, a book is victory.

From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.

My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.

When you let people upset you, you’re giving away your power.

Let us not close our hearts, let us not look away.

Your real security is yourself. You know you can do it, and they can’t ever take that away from you.

In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion.

When it seems impossible like nothing is going to work, you are usually just a few millimeters away from making it happen.

Making new friends is tough. You don’t really know who to trust when you’re away from people that you love a lot.

The strong grows in solitude where the weak withers away.

Love in this dying world but the simple word “love” itself already died and went away.