Even Money, Which Shines So Much, Spits

The Artist, And Particularly The Poet, Is Always An Anarchist In The Best Sense Of The Word. He Must Heed Only The Call That Arises Within Him From Three Strong Voices: The Voice Of Death, With All Its Foreboding, The Voice Of Love And The Voice Of Art.

I Put My Head Out Of My Window And See How Much The Wind’s Knife Wants To Slice It Off. On This Unseen Guillotine, I’ve Placed The Eyeless Head Of All My Desires.

New York Is A Meeting Place For Every Race In The World, But The Chinese, Armenians, Russians, And Germans Remain Foreigners. So Does Everyone Except The Blacks. There Is No Doubt But That The Blacks Exercise Great Influence In North America, And, No Matter What Anyone Says, They Are The Most Delicate, Spiritual Element In That World.

The Important Thing In Life Is To Let The Years Carry Us Along.

Old Women Can See Through Walls.