When A Writer Is Born Into A

They Used To Pour Millet On Graves Or Poppy Seeds To Feed The Dead Who Would Come Disguised As Birds. I Put This Book Here For You, Who Once Lived So That You Should Visit Us No More.

What Is Poetry Which Does Not Save Nations Or People?

A Man Should Not Love The Moon. An Ax Should Not Lose Weight In His Hand. His Garden Should Smell Of Rotting Apples, And Grow A Fair Amount Of Nettles.

We Have Become Indifferent To Content, And React, Not Even To Form, But To Technique, To Technical Efficiency Itself.

Human Reason Is Beautiful And Invincible. No Bars, No Barbed Wire, No Pulping Of Books, No Sentence Of Banishment Can Prevail Against It. It Puts What Should Be Above Things As They Are. It Does Not Know Jew From Greek Nor Slave From Master.