Living is a horizontal fall.

A child's reaction to this type of calamity is twofold and extreme. Not knowing how deeply, powerfully, life drops anchor into its vast sources of recuperation, he is bound to envisage, at once, the very worst; yet at the same time, because of his inability to imagine death, the worst remains totally unreal to him. Gerard went on repeating: "Paul's dying; Paul's going to die"' but he did not believe it. Paul's death would be part of the dream, a dream of snow, of journeying forever.

Art is science in the flesh.

When a work appears to be ahead of its time, it is only the time that is behind the work.

The poet doesn't invent. He listens.

It was the East that should have sent us missionaries.

I am burning myself up and will always do so.