I left parts of myself everywhere, The way absent-minded people leave Gloves and umbrellas Whose colors are sad from dispensing so much bad luck
I slept little, read a lot, and fell in love frequently.
The world is beautiful but not sayable. That's why we need art.
The secret wish of poetry is to stop time.
Poetry is an orphan of silence.
The ambition of much of today's literary theory seems to be to find ways to read literature without imagination.