A City Becomes A World When One

It’s Only With Great Vulgarity That You Can Achieve Real Refinement, Only Out Of Bawdry That You Can Get Tenderness.

It Is Not Love That Is Blind, But Jealousy.

But I Love To Feel Events Overlapping Each Other, Crawling Over One Another Like Wet Crabs In A Basket

To Write A Poem Is Like Trying To Catch A Lizard Without Its Tail Falling Off.

Perhaps Our Only Sickness Is To Desire A Truth Which We Cannot Bear Rather Than To Rest Content With The Fictions We Manufacture Out Of Each Other.