Whatever the world condemns you for, make it your own. It is yourself.

What the public criticizes in you, cultivate. It is you.

I've always preferred mythology to history. History is truth that becomes an illusion. Mythology is an illusion that becomes reality.

Every poem is a coat of arms. It must be deciphered. How much blood, how many tears in exchange for these axes, these muzzles, these unicorns, these torches, these towers, these martlets, these seedlings of stars and these fields of blue!

Alas! I do not believe that inspiration falls from heaven. think it rather the result of a profound indolence.

The world owes its enchantment to these curious creatures and their fancies; but its multiple complicity rejects them. Thistledown spirits, tragic, heartrending in their evanescence, they must go blowing headlong to perdition.

I feel myself inhabited by a force or being -- very little known to me. It gives the orders; I follow.