Oh the innocent girl in her maiden teens knows perfectly well what everything means.

I am part of the sun as my eye is of me. That I am part of the earth my feet know perfectly, and my blood is part of the sea.

The map appears to us more real than the land.

It is a curious thing how poets tend to become ascetics.... Even a debauch for them is a self-flagellation. They go on the loose in cruelty against themselves, admitting that they are pandering to, and despising, the lower self.

I should like [people] to like the purely individual thing in themselves, which makes them act in singleness. and They only like to do the collective thing.

Oh build your ship of death. Oh build it! For you will need it. For the voyage of oblivion awaits you.

I'd wipe the machines off the face of the earth again, and end the industrial epoch absolutely, like a black mistake.