Human Love Is Often But The Encounter

I Believe That Only Poetry Counts ... A Great Novelist Is First Of All A Great Poet.

If The Flame Inside You Goes Out, The Souls That Are Next To You Will Die Of Cold.

Where Does Discipline End? Where Does Cruelty Begin? Somewhere Between These, Thousands Of Children Inhabit A Voiceless Hell.

What I Fear Is Not Being Forgotten After My Death, But, Rather, Not Being Enough Forgotten. As We Were Saying, It Is Not Our Books That Survive, But Our Poor Lives That Linger In The Histories.

God Does Not Answer Our Desperate Questionings; He Simply Gives Us Himself.