Mirrors Would Do Well To Reflect A

Without Opium, Plans, Marriages And Journeys Appear To Me Just As Foolish As If Someone Falling Out Of A Window Were To Hope To Make Friends With The Occupants Of The Room Before Which He Passes.

Poetry Is A Religion With No Hope.

The Smell Of Opium Is The Least Stupid Smell In The World.

Art Produces Ugly Things Which Frequently Become Beautiful With Time.

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