Fat girl, terrestrial, my summer, my night, How is it I find you in difference, see you there In a moving contour, a change not quite completed? You are familiar yet an aberration.

True villains are extremely photogenic.

All the great things have been denied and we live in an intricacy of new and local mythologies, political, economic, poetic, which are asserted with an ever-enlarging incoherence.

The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.

The summer night is like a perfection of thought.

The imagination is one of the forces of nature.

Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.

The most beautiful thing in the world is, of course, the world itself.

The way through the world is more difficult to find than the way beyond it.

I do not know which to prefer - The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after.

It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem.

I write not for the sake of glory. Not for the sake of fame. Not of the sake of success. But for the sake of my soul.

A true prophet would rather be believed false by many but actually true than believed true by many but actually false.

I am worried about development in the field of information technology, communication, etc. So you cannot say that I have become inactive.

You don't need a search warrant to go through someone's trash. Seriously. Once it hits the curb it is totally fair game - you an look it up.

There is a word, in a verb, something sacred which forbids us from using it recklessly. To handle a language cunningly is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.

There is a ghost That eats hankerchiefs; It keeps you company On all your travels.

Assad must go. He's lost the legitimacy to govern.

The highest Art of the Chess player lies in not allowing your Opponent to show you what he can do.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

That is how heavy a secret can become. It can make blood flow easier than ink.