The poet seemed to be searching for something, to be seeing things, and believing infinitely. He was in another world where everything we see is true… - Henri Barbusse

She is one with me. Love — it comes back to me. Love is an unhappy man and unhappy woman. I awake — uttering the feeble cry of the babe new-born.

Socially, women are the equals of men, without restrictions. The beings who shine and who bring forth are not made solely to lend or to give the heat of their bodies. It is right that the sum total of work should be shared, reduced and harmonized by their hands. It is just that the fate of humanity should be grounded also in the strength of women.

Le temps semble s’être arrêté…
Tu baisses ton profil sublime,
Et nous nous penchons vers l’abîme
Dans un frisson d’éternité