Life Is The Path You Beat While

All Uncertainty Is Fruitfull ... So Long As It Is Accompanied By The Wish To Understand

The Only Living Language Is The Language In Which We Think And Have Our Being.

In Order To Write Poetry, You Must First Invent A Poet Who Will Write It.

I Dreamt -- Marvellous Error! -- That I Had A Beehive Here Inside My Heart. And The Golden Bees Were Making White Combs And Sweet Honey From My Old Failures.

There Is No One So Bound To His Own Face That He Does Not Cherish The Hope Of Presenting Another To The World.