If A Poet Has A Dream, It

Everything One Does In Life, Even Love, Occurs In An Express Train Racing Toward Death. To Smoke Opium Is To Get Out Of The Train While It Is Still Moving. It Is To Concern Oneself With Something Other Than Life Or Death.

I Am Burning Myself Up And Will Always Do So.

Children And Lunatics Cut The Gordian Knot Which The Poet Spends His Life Patiently Trying To Untie.

Be A Mere Assistant To Your Unconscious. Do Only Half The Work. The Rest Will Do Itself.

We Shelter An Angel Within Us. We Must Be The Guardians Of That Angel.