Je ne suis ni un homme, ni un poète, ni une feuille, mais un pouls blessé qui pressent l'au-delà.
Toutes les choses ont leur mystère, et la poésie, c'est le mystère de toutes les choses.
On n'a pas un enfant comme on a un bouquet de roses.
L'optimisme est propre aux âmes qui n'ont qu'une seule dimension.
Les femmes, à l'église, ne doivent regarder d'autre homme que le célébrant, et encore parce qu'il a des jupes.
La terre est le probable paradis perdu.
La poésie, c'est quelque chose qui marche par les rues.
© 2026 My French LLC
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