The poet never asks for admiration; he wants to be believed.

Art is science made flesh.

A man's truest self realizations might require him, above all, to learn to close his eyes: to let himself be taken unawares, to follow his dark angel, to risk his illegal instincts.

Whatever the public blames you for, cultivate it; it is yourself.

Continue reading Proust. His magnificent intelligence is particularly fond of describing stupidity. Which is ultimately exhausting.

It is excruciating to be an unbeliever with a spirit that is deeply religious.

The only way to kill death is through photography.