If Only Art Were As Rare As

Silence Too Can Be Indiscreet.

If I Had One Ambition It Was To Make My Life Itself Into A Poem.

Sensuality, Wanting A Religion, Invented Love.

The Past Is Such A Subtle Thing. [but] In The End, Nothing Else Exists, Everything Is Made Of The Past, Even The Future.

There Are. Intangible Realities Which Float Near Us, Formless And Without Words; Realities Which No One Has Thought Out, And Which Are Excluded For Lack Of Interpreters.