I Am Burning Myself Up And Will

All Good Music Resembles Something. Good Music Stirs By Its Mysterious Resemblance To The Objects And Feelings Which Motivated It.

Watch Yourself All Your Life In A Mirror And You'll See Death At Work Like Bees In A Glass Hive.

Love Is Mainly An Affair Of Short Spasms. If These Spasms Disappoint Us, Love Dies. It Is Very Seldom That It Weathers The Experience And Becomes Friendship.

Lying Is The Only Art Form That The Public Sanctions And Instinctively Prefers To Reality.

Poetry, Being Elegance Itself, Cannot Hope To Achieve Visibility... It Insists On Living Its Own Life.