I'm a peasantI'm the muzhikA pest you're destined to play the musicAnd yes it's pleasant to say it's beauty I'mIndebted to rest respecting it truly

After each of his books, the writer, for a while, feels once again that he can now die happy.

When you aren't satisfied with what has already been done, make something better. That is the greatest responsibility and the true freedom of creativity. The freedom is in that it doesn't need to complain.

Astray from a deep sleep chronic as I write by phonics, like insomnia I will always live the onyx night for revealing, and, upon it, still I'll steal the bright light of day right away just to keep building at speeds hypersonic.

I'm never proud of my old work. I always feel as though my skills have since improved.

A poet should be so crafty with words that he is envied even for his pains.

Create with the heart; build with the mind.

The writer's curse is that even in solitude, no matter its duration, he never grows lonely or bored.

Thoughts are like burning stars, and ideas, they flood, they stretch the universe.