As in an explosion, I would erupt with all the wonderful things I saw and understood in this world.

Oh, what a love it was, utterly free, unique, like nothing else on earth! Their thoughts were like other people's songs.

I come here to speak poetry. It will always be in the grass. It will also be necessary to bend down to hear it. It will always be too simple to be discussed in assemblies.

Oh, how one wishes sometimes to escape from the meaningless dullness of human eloquence, from all those sublime phrases, to take refuge in nature, apparently so inarticulate, or in the wordlessness of long, grinding labor, of sound sleep, of true music, or of a human understanding rendered speechless by emotion!

But what are pity, conscience, or fear To the brazen pair, compared With the living sorcery Of their hot embraces?

He realised, more vividly than ever before, that art had two constant, two unending preoccupations: it is always meditating upon death and it is always thereby creating life.

In every generation there has to be some fool who will speak the truth as he sees it.