My readers at that time were still men of letters; but there had to be other people waiting to read my poems.

Even a polemic has some justification if one considers that my own first poetic experiments began during a dictatorship and mark the origin of the Hermetic movement.

A poet clings to his own tradition and avoids internationalism.

The poet does not fear death, not because he believes in the fantasy of heroes, but because death constantly visits his thoughts and is thus an image of a serene dialogue.

The writer of stories or of novels settles on men and imitates them; he exhausts the possibilities of his characters.

War, I have always said, forces men to change their standards, regardless of whether their country has won or lost.

Poetry is the revelation of a feeling that the poet believes to be interior and personal but which the reader recognizes as his own.

Europeans know the importance of the Resistance; it has been the shining example of the modern conscience.

The antagonism between the poet and the politician has generally been evident in all cultures.

After the turbulence of death, moral principles and even religious proofs are called into question.

From the night, his solitude, the poet finds day and starts a diary that is lethal to the inert. The dark landscape yields a dialogue.

In order to gain mastery over whatever you have been called to do, you must look for ways of improving how you do them.

In New York City, the meek don't inherit the earth. The big mouth does.

At the end of the spectrum when you get to that 12th step, when you have that spiritual awakening we make ourselves available to help other people.

What to know about pain is how little we do to deserve it, how simple it is to give, how hard to lose.

At the end of the day, what have I got? A successful Singapore. What have I given up? My life.

I have always deeply desired to be an honest man who said it when I struggled, stumbled and worried. I longed to be a man with real friends - friends who knew me at my worst and loved me.

Love is the heartbeat of all life.

All travel is circular. I had been jerked through Asia, making a parabola on one of the planet's hemispheres. After all, the grand tour is just the inspired man's way of heading home.

Corruptissima re publica plurimae leges.

The ox suffers, the cart complains.