I. Don't trace out your profile-- forget your side view-- all that is outer stuff. II. Look for your other half who walks always next to you and tends to be who you aren't.

In order to write poetry, you must first invent a poet who will write it.

The unpublished manuscript is like an uncon-fessed sin that festers in the soul, corrupting and contaminating it.

The truly erotic sensibility, in evoking the image of woman, never omits to clothe it. The robing and disrobing: that is the true traffic of love.

My soul is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, its eyes wide open far-off things, and listens at the shores of the great silence.

XXIX Traveler, there is no path. The path is made by walking. Traveller, the path is your tracks And nothing more. Traveller, there is no path The path is made by walking. By walking you make a path And turning, you look back At a way you will never tread again Traveller, there is no road Only wakes in the sea.

The absence of vices adds so little to the sum of one's virtues.