I think that at a certain age, say fifteen or sixteen, poetry is like masturbation. But later in life good poets burn their early poetry, and bad poets publish it. Thankfully I gave up rather quickly.

A monk should surely love his books with humility, wishing their good and not the glory of his own curiosity; but what the temptation of adultery is for laymen and the yearning for riches is for secular ecclesiastics, the seduction of knowledge is for monks.

Is it possible to say 'It was a beautiful morning at the end of November' without feeling like Snoopy?

Poetry is not a matter of feelings, it is a matter of language. It is language which creates feelings.

The Templars' mental confusion makes them indecipherable. That's why so many people venerate them.

And in that moment I experience a revelation.I realize now that it was a painful sense that the world is purposeless, the lazy fruit of a misunderstanding, but in that moment I was able to translate what I felt only as: 'God does not exist.