True poetry is a function of awakening. It awakens us, but it must retain the memory of previous dreams.
It is not a question of observation which propels mankind forward as if toward a looking glass of great magnitude; it is an instance of aggrandized reflection that insinuates the human psyche to the inhuman.
The blank page gives us the right to dream.
Man is an imagining being.
The repose of sleep refreshes only the body. It rarely sets the soul at rest.
It will always be a fact that the woman is the person one idealizes, also the person who wishes his idealization.