“I am a book of snow, a spacious hand, an open meadow, a circle that waits, I belong to the earth and its winter.”

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.

I was the owner of my own darkness.

A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn’t play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.