I am a lie who always speaks the truth.
Silence moves faster when it's going backward.
There are truths which one can only say after having won the right to say them.
When a work appears to be ahead of its time, it is only the time that is behind the work.
Here I am trying to live, or rather, I am trying to teach the death within me how to live.
Poets don't draw. They unravel their handwriting and then tie it up again, but differently.
After the writer's death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter.
The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth.
Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.