An Imaginative Adventure Does Not Enjoy The

Poets Are The Sense, Philosophers­­ The Intelligence­­ Of Humanity.

The Only Sin Is The Sin Of Being Born.

Words Are All We Have.

How All Becomes Clear And Simple When One Opens An Eye On The Within, Having Of Course Previously Exposed It To The Without, In Order To Benefit By The Contrast.

My Characters Have Nothing. I'm Working With Impotence, Ignorance... That Whole Zone Of Being That Has Always Been Set Aside By Artists As Something Unusable - Something By Definition Incompatible With Art.