In All Fiction, When A Man Is

The Flattery Of Posterity Is Not Worth Much More Than Contemporary Flattery, Which Is Worth Nothing.

Doubt Is One Of The Names Of Intelligence.

When One Confesses To An Act, One Ceases To Be An Actor In It And Becomes Its Witness, Becomes A Man That Observes And Narrates It And No Longer The Man That Performed It.

Poets, Like The Blind, Can See In The Dark.

Best Thing To Happen For A Poet. A Fine Death, No? An Impressive Death.