Every Step We Take On Earth Brings

Life Is Laughter Amid A Rosary Of Death.

If I Told You The Whole Story It Would Never End...what's Happened To Me Has Happened To A Thousand Woman.

The Artist, And Particularly The Poet, Is Always An Anarchist In The Best Sense Of The Word. He Must Heed Only The Call That Arises Within Him From Three Strong Voices: The Voice Of Death, With All Its Foreboding, The Voice Of Love And The Voice Of Art.

The Dancer's Trembling Heart Must Bring Everything Into Harmony, From The Tips Of Her Shoes To The Flutter Of Her Eyelashes, From The Ruffles Of Her Dress To The Incessant Play Of Her Fingers.

I'll Always Be Happy If They'd Leave Me Alone In That Delightful And Unknown Furthest Corner, Apart From Struggles, Putrefactions And Nonsense; The Ultimate Corner Of Sugar And Toast, Where The Mermaids Catch The Branches Of The Willows And The Heart Opens To A Flute's Sharpness.