Dreams Have As Much Influences As Actions.

It Is In Front Of The The Paper That The Artist Creates Himself.

There Is Only Beauty / And It Has Only One Perfect Expression / Poetry. All The Rest Is A Lie /except For Those Who Live By The Body, Love, And, That Love Of The Mind, Friendship. For Me, Poetry Takes The Place Of Love, Because It Is Enamored Of Itself, And Because Its Sensual Delight Falls Back Deliciously In My Soul.

The Poetic Act Consists Of Suddenly Seeing That An Idea Splits Up Into A Number Of Equal Motifs And Of Grouping Them; They Rhyme.

To Define Is To Kill. To Suggest Is To Create.

The Pure Work Implies The Disappearance Of The Poet As Speaker, Who Hands Over To The Words.