A man fell in love with Jeanne, and she tried to love him. But she complained that he uttered such ordinary words, that he could never say the magic phrase which would open her being.

The dangerous time when mechanical voices, radios, telephones, take the place of human intimacies, and the concept of being in touch with millions brings a greater and greater poverty in intimacy and human vision.

I see enormous loves growing immense and finally crushing me.

I don't hear your words: your voice reverberates against my body like another kind of caress, another kind of penetration. I have no power over your voice. It comes straight from you into me. I could stuff my ears and it would find its way into my blood and make it rise.

You are the poet, you walk inside my dreams.

I love the abstract, delicate, profound, vague, voluptuously wordless sensation of living ecstatically.

When you possess light within, you see it externally.