History Laughs At Both The Victim And

If You Live, Live Free Or Die Like The Trees, Standing Up.

I Have Learned And Dismantled All The Words In Order To Draw From Them A Single Word: Home.

Poetry Is Perhaps What Teaches Us To Nurture The Charming Illusion: How To Be Reborn Out Of Ourselves Over And Over Again, And Use Words To Construct A Better World, A Fictitious World That Enables Us To Sign A Pact For A Permanent And Comprehensive Peace ... With Life.

I Love Women Whose Hidden Desires Make Horses Put An End To Their Lives At The Threshold

Against Barbarity, Poetry Can Resist Only By Confirming Its Attachment To Human Fragility Like A Blade Of Grass Growing On A Wall While Armies March By.