The Word of fire burns today On the lips of our prophets in an evil age.
When I was about eight, I decided that the most wonderful thing, next to a human being, was a book.
The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories.
Let a new earth rise. Let another world be born. Let a bloody peace be written in the sky. Let a second generation full of courage issue forth let a people loving freedom come to growth.
Friends and good manners will carry you where money won't go.