O your life, your lonely lifeWhat have you ever done with it,And done with the great gift of consciousness?What will you ever do before Death's knifeProvides the answer ultimate and appropriate?As I for my part felt in my heart as one who falls,Falls in a parachute, falls endlessly, and feels the vastDraft of the abyss sucking him down and down,An endlessly helplessly falling and appalled clown:This is the way the night passes by, thisIs the overnight endless trip to the famous unfathomable abyss.

Literature doesn't matter! The only thing that matters is money and getting your teeth fixed!

What does long life avail? The best seats at the funerals of friends.

I always cause those who are near to me more suffering than pleasure.

Major writing is to say that which has been seen, so that it need never be said again; so that which has been seen increases, changes in reality, in being.

Poetry must be as new as foam & old as rock.

Order and disorder, form and formless must have profound psychological roots, nervous roots.