Art Produces Ugly Things Which Frequently Become

Enough Of Clouds, Waves, Aquariums, Water-sprites And Nocturnal Scents; What We Need Is Music Of The Earth, Everyday Music..music One Can Live In Like A House.

Love Is Mainly An Affair Of Short Spasms. If These Spasms Disappoint Us, Love Dies. It Is Very Seldom That It Weathers The Experience And Becomes Friendship.

The Public Only Takes Up Yesterday As A Stick To Beat Today.

You've Never Seen Death? Look In The Mirror Every Day And You Will See It Like Bees Working In A Glass Hive.

Poets Don't Draw. They Unravel Their Handwriting And Then Tie It Up Again, But Differently.