Whom the gods do not intend to destroy, they first make mad with poetry.
Time flames like a paraffin stove / and what burns are the minutes I live.
I have stopped being a misanthrope.
My neighbor doesn't want to be loved as much as he wants to be envied.
Since I no longer expect anything from mankind except madness, meanness, and mendacity; egotism, cowardice, and self-delusion, I have stopped being a misanthrope.
I am a genius who has written poems that will survive with the best of Shakespeare, Wordsworth and Keats