Poetry springs from something deeper; it's beyond intelligence.
I have known uncertainty: a state unknown to the Greeks.
All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.
We are our memory, we are that chimerical museum of shifting shapes, that pile of broken mirrors.
Time, which despoils castles, enriches verses.
To fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god.