It's linkage I'm talking about, and harmonies and structures, And all the various things that lock our wrists to the past.
All forms of landscape are autobiographical.
Poetry is the dark side of the moon.
Our dreams are luminous, a cast fire upon the world. Morning arrives and that's it. Sunlight darkens the earth.
The ache for anything is a thick dust in the heart.
It may not be written in any book, but it is written - You can't go back, you can't repeat the unrepeatable.