Poetry Remembers That It Was An Oral

One Concept Corrupts And Confuses The Others. I Am Not Speaking Of The Evil Whose Limited Sphere Is Ethics; I Am Speaking Of The Infinite.

My Books Standing There On The Shelf Do Not Know That I Have Written Them.

His Life, Measured In Space And Time, Will Take Up A Mere Few Lines, Which My Ignorance Will Abbreviate Further.

The Central Problem Of Novel-writing Is Causality.

Poets, Like The Blind, Can See In The Dark.