Happiness, For You We Walk On A

The Real History, The One That Counts And Is Not To Be Found In Books, Is Precisely This One, The One Made By Simple Men; And It Is The Only One That Rules The World.

In Reality Art Is Always For Everyone And For No One.

I Am Perhaps A Late Follower Of Zoroaster And I Believe That The Foundation Of Life Is Built Upon The Struggle Between The Two Opposing Forces Of Good And Evil.

Poetry Is The Art Which Is Technically Within The Grasp Of Everyone: A Piece Of Paper And A Pencil And One Is Ready.

Today Not Even A Universal Fire Could Make The Torrential Poetic Production Of Our Time Disappear. But It Is Exactly A Question Of Production, That Is, Of Hand-made Products Which Are Subject To The Laws Of Taste And Fashion.