To write poetry and to commit suicide, apparently so contradictory, had really been the same, attempts at escape.

If a person is intelligent, then of course he is either an agnostic or an atheist. Just as he is a physical coward. They are automatic definitions of high intelligence.

I read and I read; and I was like a medieval king, I had fallen in love with the picture long before I saw the reality.

If anything might hurt her, silence would; and I wanted to hurt her.

The ordinary man is the curse of civilization.

Always we try to put the wild in a cage.

I knew words were like chains, they held me back . . . the act of description taints the description.