Here I Am Trying To Live, Or

One Sits Down First; One Thinks Afterwards.

Poetry Is An Ethic. By Ethic I Mean A Secret Code Of Behavior, A Discipline Constructed And Conducted According To The Capabilities Of A Man Who Rejects The Falsifications Of The Categorical Imperative.

The Ability To Laugh Heartily Is The Sign Of A Healthy Soul.

Art Produces Ugly Things Which Frequently Become Beautiful With Time.

When We Awake It Is The Animal, The Plant, That Thinks In Us. Primitive Thought Without The Least Disguise. We See A Terrible Universe, Because We See Clearly. A Little Later, Intelligence Introduces Its Impeding Contrivances. It Brings The Little Toys Which Man Invents In Order To Hide The Void. It Is Then That We Think We Are Seeing Clearly. We Attribute Our Uneasiness To The Miasmas Of The Brain As It Passes From Dream To Reality.