I am a dreamer of words, of written words. I think I am reading; a word stops me. I leave the page. The syllables of the word begin to move around. Stressed accents begin to invert. The word abandons its meaning like an overload which is too heavy and prevents dreaming. Then words take on other meanings as if they had the right to be young. And the words wander away, looking in the nooks and crannies of vocabulary for new company, bad company.
Gaston BachelardTrue poetry is a function of awakening. It awakens us, but it must retain the memory of previous dreams.
Gaston BachelardA special kind of beauty exists which is born in language, of language, and for language.
Gaston Bachelard