- Speed, the pace of the present, cannot be measured by subways or skyscrapers, but only by the cheerful grass thrusting itself forth from under city stones.
- We live, but we do not feel the land beneath us / Ten steps away and our words cannot be heard.
- Only in Russia poetry is respected – it gets people killed. Is there anywhere else where poetry is so common a motive for murder?
- Classical poetry is the poetry of revolution.
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