The Poet Is At The Disposal Of

Art Is Science In The Flesh.

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.

Elegance Ceases To Exist When It Is Noticed.

It Is Difficult To Live Without Opium After Having Known It Because It Is Difficult, After Knowing Opium, To Take Earth Seriously. And Unless One Is A Saint, It Is Difficult To Live Without Taking Earth Seriously.

Inspiration Arrived As A Result Of Profound Indolence... I Awoke With A Start And Witnessed As From A Seat In A Theatre, Three Acts Of A Potentially Awesome Play.