The Pigs Stuck Out Their Little Feet

The Whole Shadow Of Man Is Only As Big As His Hat.

What One Seems To Want In Art, In Experiencing It, Is The Same Thing That Is Necessary For Its Creation, A Self-forgetful, Perfectly Useless Concentration.

If After I Read A Poem The World Looks Like That Poem For 24 Hours Or So I'm Sure It's A Good One—and The Same Goes For Paintings.

Hoping To Live Days Of Greater Happiness, I Forget That Days Of Less Happiness Are Passing By.

All My Life I Have Lived And Behaved Very Much Like The Sandpiper - Just Running Down The Edges Of Different Countries And Continents, 'looking For Something'.