I Sit In The Dark. And It

...boredom Speaks The Language Of Time, And It Is To Teach You The Most Valuable Lesson In Your Life--...the Lesson Of Your Utter Insignificance. It Is Valuable To You, As Well As To Those You Are To Rub Shoulders With. 'you Are Finite,' Time Tells You In A Voice Of Boredom, 'and Whatever You Do Is, From My Point Of View, Futile.' As Music To Your Ears, This, Of Course, May Not Count; Yet The Sense Of Futility, Of Limited Significance Even Of Your Best, Most Ardent Actions Is Better Than The Illusion Of Their Consequence And The Attendant Self-satisfaction.

A Poet Is A Combination Of An Instrument And A Human Being In One Person, With The Former Gradually Taking Over The Latter. The Sensation Of This Takeover Is Responsible For Timbre; The Realization Of It, For Destiny.

The Surest Defense Against Evil Is Extreme Individualism, Originality Of Thinking, Whimsicality, Even - If You Will - Eccentricity. That Is, Something That Can't Be Feigned, Faked, Imitated; Something Even A Seasoned Imposter Couldn't Be Happy With.

Creativity Is An Unending Exercise In Uncertainty.

Poetry Is What Is Gained In Translation.