French - Poet | June 20, 1913 - April 17, 2008
Reason, I sacrifice you to the evening breeze.
Aime Cesaire
SacrificeEveningYouReasonBreeze
It is no use painting the foot of the tree white, the strength of the bark cries out from beneath the paint.
StrengthTreePaintingWhitePaint
Poetic knowledge is born in the great silence of scientific knowledge.
KnowledgeGreatSilenceBornPoetic
I have a different idea of a universal. It is of a universal rich with all that is particular, rich with all the particulars there are, the deepening of each particular, the coexistence of them all.
RichUniversalDifferentIdeaThem
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