. . . Be Absolute Moderne.

Faith Assuages, Guides, Restores.

You Will Always Be A Hyena.

I Found I Could Extinguish All Human Hope From My Soul.

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 Wrote Silences; Nights; I Recorded The Unnameable.