“Then you'll feel your cheek scratched...A little kiss, like a crazy spider,Will run round your neck... And you'll say to me : "Find it !" bending your head- And we'll take a long time to find that creature- Which travels a lot...”

“A thousand Dreams within me softly burn:From time to time my heart is like some oakWhose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.”

“He would say, "How funny it will all seem, all you've gone through, when I'm not here anymore, when you no longer feel my arms around your shoulders, nor my heart beneath you, nor this mouth on your eyes, because I will have to go away some day, far away..." And in that instant I could feel myself with him gone, dizzy with fear, sinking down into the most horrible blackness: into death.”

“True alchemy lies in this formula: ‘Your memory and your senses are but the nourishment of your creative impulse’.”

“Evening prayerI spend my life sitting, like an angel in a barber's chair,Holding a beer mug with deep-cut designs,My neck and gut both bent, while in the airA weightless veil of pipe smoke hangs.Like steaming dung within an old dovecoteA thousand Dreams within me softly burn:From time to time my heart is like some oakWhose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.And then, when I have swallowed down my DreamsIn thirty, forty mugs of beer, I turnTo satisfy a need I can't ignore,And like the Lord of Hyssop and of MyrrhI piss into the skies, a soaring streamThat consecrates a patch of flowering fern.”

“The poet makes himself a voyant through a long, immense reasoned deranging of all his senses. All the forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he tries to find himself, he exhausts in himself all the poisons, to keep only their quintessences.”

“It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense,/ That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.”