To Write A Poem Is Like Trying

A Critic Is A Lug-worm In The Liver Of Literature.

The Sense Of Truth No Matter How Subjective Is Necessary For The Experience Of Beauty.

Love Joins And Then Divides. How Else Would We Be Growing?

An Idea Is Like A Rare Bird Which Cannot Be Seen. What One Sees Is The Trembling Of The Branch It Has Just Left.

Music Was Invented To Confirm Human Loneliness.