A smiling lie is a whirlwind, easy to enter, but hard to escape.

and everyone wants to read the poem we’re afraid to write.

poetrymelts my bones.enters my blood.and changesits composition.

The poet must be more useful than any other member if his tribe.

Infinity is the end. End without infinity is but a new beginning.

Real geniuses would like that what we think of ourselves is true.

You not only are hunted by others, you unknowingly hunt yourself.

Beyond all vanities, fights, and desires, omnipotent silence lies.

You are the hybrids of golden worlds and ages splendidly conceived.

for we all have our own twilights and mistsand abyssesto return to.

The pen, a double-edged mystery: cuts the writer, heals the reader.

99% of natural poets discovered their talents through love letters.

A big desire is not enough to meet the expectations of lost dreams.

We measure everything by ourselves with almost a necessary conceit.

You mark and celebrate errors, transforming failures into successes.