Childhood lasts all through life. It returns to animate broad sections of adult life.... Poets will help us to find this living childhood within us, this permanent, durable immobile world.

I am a dreamer of words, of written words. I think I am reading; a word stops me. I leave the page. The syllables of the word begin to move around. Stressed ac…

The subconscious is ceaselessly murmuring, and it is by listening to these murmurs that one hears the truth.

A word is a bud attempting to become a twig. How can one not dream while writing? It is the pen which dreams. The blank page gives the right to dream.

One of the most obvious facts about grown-ups to a child is that they have forgotten what it is like to be a child.

Ce qui fait le poete, n'est-ce pas l'amour, la recherche desesperee du moindre rayon de soleil d'autrefois jouant sur le parquet d'une chambre d'enfant?

So, what's it like in the real world? Well, the food is better, but beyond that, I don't recommend it.