If A Poet Has A Dream, It

Lack Of Manners Is The Sign Of A Hero.

We Are In A Period Of Such Individualism That One No Longer Speaks Of Disciples; One Speaks Of Thieves.

Art Is Science Made Flesh.

Art Produces Ugly Things Which Frequently Become More Beautiful With Time. Fashion, On The Other Hand, Produces Beautiful Things Which Always Become Ugly With Time.

My Method Is Simple: Not To Bother About Poetry. It Must Come Of Its Own Accord. Merely Whispering Its Name Drives It Away.