I demanded a realm in which I should be both master and slave at the same time: The world of art is the only such realm.
If the poet can no longer speak for society, but only for himself, then we are at the last ditch.
I read to be taken out of myself, to become ecstatic.
The waking mind, you see, is the least serviceable in the arts.
Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes.
I'm an egotist, but I'm not selfish. There's a difference. I'm a neurotic, I guess. I can't stop thinking about myself. It isn't that I think myself so important. I simply can't think about anything else, that's all.