Mass communication, radio, and especially television, have attempted, not without success, to annihilate every possibility of solitude and reflection.

I have always knocked at the door of that wonderful and terrible enigma which is life.

Evidently the arts, all the visual arts, are becoming more democratic in the worst sense of the word.

Slowly poetry becomes visual because it paints images, but it is also musical: it unites two arts into one.

Happiness, for you we walk on a knife edge. To the eyes you are a flickering light, to the feet, thin ice that cracks; and so may no one touch you who loves you.

Many of today's verses are prose and bad prose.

Holidays - Have no pity.