Even a minor event in the life of a child is an event of that child's world and thus a world event.

All the senses awaken and fall into harmony in poetic reverie. Poetic reverie listens to this polyphony of the senses, and the poetic consciousness must record it.

If I were asked to name the chief benefit of the house, I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.

Man is an imagining being.

There is no original truth, only original error.

Dreaming by the river, I dedicated my imagination to water, to clear, green water, the water that makes the meadows green.

The reverie would not last if it were not nourished by the images of the sweetness of living, by the illusions of happiness.