Poetry is a religion without hope. The poet exhausts himself in its service, knowing that, in the long run, a masterpiece is nothing but the performance of a trained dog on very shaky ground.

The artist must know how far to go too far.

It seems to me that invisibility is the required provision of elegance. Elegance ceases to exist when it is noticed.

Perhaps I know to what extent I can go too far.

Elegance ceases to exist when it is noticed.

All spiritual journeys are martyrdoms

Mirrors should think longer before they reflect.