“The poet makes himself a voyant through a long, immense reasoned deranging of all his senses. All the forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he tries to find himself, he exhausts in himself all the poisons, to keep only their quintessences.”

I saw that all beings are fated to happiness: action is not life, but a way of wasting some force, an enervation. Morality is the weakness of the brain.

Once, if I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.

You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life.

As for me, I am intact; and I don’t care.

I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.

Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!

I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.

Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.

The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.

I could never throw Love out of the window.

True life is elsewhere.

To whom shall I hire myself out? What beast should I adore? What holy image is attacked? What hearts shall I break? What lies shall I uphold? In what blood tread?

Eternity is the sun mixed with the sea.

A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned, isn’t he?

It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense, That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.

And again: No more gods! no more gods! Man is King, Man is God! – But the great Faith is Love!

No amount of stress and disruption is worth taking me back to a place I prayer my way out of. I’ve come a long way.

When you start from nothing, when you come from nothing, it makes you hungry. I am proud of where I came from and I know what I want. I want to win.

Only you know how far you’ve truly come. Please don’t ever let that go unnoticed.

There are many defining moments in my journey.

On the road from the City of Skepticism, I had to pass through the Valley of Ambiguity.

A small cold and cough can actually stop you from going where you are.

I have had lots of luck in my career but there has also been a lot of hard work.

I am on a self-love journey; still learning how to love myself. I carry wounds that I have not yet healed from; some days they seem to disappear and other days they bleed heavily.