Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.

Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!

And again: No more gods! no more gods! Man is King, Man is God! - But the great Faith is Love!

But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.

For a long time I found the celebrities of modern painting and poetry ridiculous. I loved absurd pictures, fanlights, stage scenery, mountebanks backcloths, inn-signs, cheap colored prints; unfashionable literature, church Latin, pornographic books badly spelt, grandmothers novels, fairy stories, little books for children, old operas, empty refrains, simple rhythms.

I wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable.

I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.