Poetry Is An Ethic. By Ethic I

Art Is Not A Pastime But A Priesthood.

Poetry Is A Religion Without Hope, But Its Martyrs Guarantee The Eternal Truth Of Its Dogma.

Poetry Is A Religion Without Hope. The Poet Exhausts Himself In Its Service, Knowing That, In The Long Run, A Masterpiece Is Nothing But The Performance Of A Trained Dog On Very Shaky Ground.

The Poet, By Composing Poems, Uses A Language That Is Neither Dead Nor Living, That Few People Speak, And Few People Understand We Are The Servants Of An Unknown Force That Lives Within Us, Manipulates Us, And Dictates This Language To Us.

Whatever The World Condemns You For, Make It Your Own. It Is Yourself.