No One Can Have An Idea Once

Our Poetry Now Is The Realization That We Possess Nothing. Anything Therefore Is A Delight (since We Do Not Posses It) And Thus Need Not Fear Its Loss.

I Am Trying To Be Unfamiliar With What I'm Doing.

What Right Do I Have To Be In The Woods, If The Woods Are Not In Me.

When I Went To The Analyst For A Kind Of Preliminary Meeting, He Said, 'i'll Be Able To Fix You So That You'll Write Much More Music Than You Do Now.' I Said, 'good Heavens! I Already Write Too Much, It Seems To Me.' That Promise Of His Put Me Off.

If This Word "music" Is Sacred And Reserved For Eighteenth And Nineteenth Century Instruments, We Can Substitute A More Meaningful Term: Organization Of Sound.