I Was Born To Travel And Write

It May Well Be That The Pictures Of Courbet, Manet, Monet And Their Like Contain Beauties Which Escape The Notice Of Such Old Romantic Heads As Ours, Already Streaked With Silver Threads.

Any Man Who Does Not Have His Inner World To Translate Is Not An Artist.

The Word Poet Literally Means Maker: Anything Which Is Not Well Made Doesn't Exist.

I Am One Of Those For Whom Superfluity Is A Necessity.

The Years I Have Squandered In Puerile Excitement, In Going Hither And Thither, In Seeking To Force Nature And Time, I Ought To Have Spent In Solitude And Meditation, In Endeavoring To Make Myself Worthy Of Being Loved.