I have been judged to be a pessimist but what abyss of ignorance and low egoism is not hidden in one who thinks that Man is the god of himself and that his future can only be triumphant?

Art is the production of objects for consumption, to be used and discarded while waiting for a new world in which man will have succeeded in freeing himself of everything, even of his own consciousness.

The efficient man is the man who thinks for himself.

It has often been observed that the repercussion of poetic language on prose language can be considered a decisive cut of a whip.

True poetry is similar to certain pictures whose owner is unknown and which only a few initiated people know.

Happiness, for you we walk on a knife edge. To the eyes you are a flickering light, to the feet, thin ice that cracks; and so may no one touch you who loves you.