Me volví loco, con largos intervalos de horrible cordura.

And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms, that move fantastically To a discordant melody, While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door A hideous throng rush out forever And laugh — but smile no more.

When a madman appears thoroughly sane, indeed, it is high time to put him in a straight jacket.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

Convinced myself, I seek not to convince.

True! - nervous - very, very nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad?

I have great faith in fools,— self-confidence my friends will call it.