Images break with a small ping, their destruction is as wonderful as their being, they are essentially instruments of torture exploding through the individual's calloused capacity to feel undifferentiated emotions full of longing and dissatisfaction and monumentality.

There is music in words, and it can be heard you know, by thinking.

All over the world today, not just in the totalitarian countries, assiduous functionaries in Ministries of Truth are clubbing history dumb and rendering language insensible.

And so the ordinary unendurable torments we all experienced were indeed exceptional in the way they were absorbed in each heart.

I have committed many sins in my life. This precise sin-the sin against poets-is without absolution.

Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader - not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.

Most people are quiet in the world, and live in it tentatively, as if it were not their own.