Irony gives us, at little expense, the impression that we are experienced psychologists.

Instead of looking for the dream in reverie, people should look for reverie in the dream. There are calm beaches in the midst of nightmares.

The reverie we intend to study is poetic reverie. This is a reverie which poetry puts on the right track, the track an expanding consciousness follows. This reverie is written, or, at least, promises to be written. It is already facing the great universe of the blank page. Then images begin to compose and fall into place.

We comfort ourselves by reliving memories of protection. Something closed must retain our memories, while leaving them their original value as images. Memories of the outside world will never have the same tonality as those of home and, by recalling these memories, we add to our store of dreams; we are never real historians, but always near poets, and our emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of a poetry that was lost.

To feel most beautifully alive means to be reading something beautiful.

It is through the intentionality of poetic imagination that the poet's soul discovers the opening of consciousness common to all true poetry.

By listening to certain words as a child listens to the sea in a seashell, a word dreamer hears the murmur of a world of dreams.