Praised be the good willing women who understand and take part in the fun--the body is an exacting beater, and even the heart is made of flesh.

This searching and doubting and vacillating where nothing is clear but the arrogance of quest. I, too, had such noble ideas when I was still a boy.

Prose and poetry are as different as food and drink.

The plot! The plot! What kind of plot could a poet possibly provide that is not surpassed by the thinking, feeling reader? Form alone is divine.

It is not a matter of desire, but of coercion and duty.

Who could deny that our Austria is richer than any other country? As the saying goes: "We have money like manure.

You even called me stupid in your verse, and I'm almost agreeing, for where stupidity is involved, you are quite an expert, friend.