The desire to have power dissolves. The desire to dominate people for love dissolves. On the other hand, it's a relief to realize you can let go.

To gain your own voice, forget about having it heard. Become a saint of your own province and your own consciousness.

I am learning by the week, but my poesy is still not my own. New rhyme, new me me me in words. I am not all this carven rhetoric.

You can't escape the past in Paris, and yet what's so wonderful about it is that the past and present intermingle so intangibly that it doesn't seem to burden.

Who can live with this Consciousness and not wake frightened at sunrise?

When it snows in your nose, you catch cold in your brain.

You can't photograph everything.