Narrative art, the novel, from Murasaki to Proust, has produced great works of poetry.

Man cannot produce a single work without the assistance of the slow, assiduous, corrosive worm of thought.

The new man is born too old to tolerate the new world. The present conditions of life have not yet erased the traces of the past. We run too fast, but we still do not move enough. He looks but he does not contemplate, he sees but he does not think.

Strangely, Dante's Divine Comedy did not produce a prose of that creative height or it did so after centuries.

Narrative art, the novel, from Murasaki to Proust, has produced great works of poetry.

There is poetry even in prose, in all the great prose which is not merely utilitarian or didactic: there exist poets who write in prose or at least in more or less apparent prose; millions of poets write verses which have no connection with poetry.

For my part, if I consider poetry as an object, I maintain that it is born of the necessity of adding a vocal sound (speech) to the hammering of the first tribal music.