A labyrinth of symbols... An invisible labyrinth of time.

The word happiness exists in every language; it is plausible the thing itself exists.

What I'm really concerned about is reaching one person. And that person may be myself for all I know.

I suppose every poet has his own private mythology. Maybe he's unaware of it. People tell me that I have evolved a private mythology of tigers, of blades, of labyrinths, and I"m unaware of the fact this is so. My readers are finding it all the time. But I think perhaps that is the duty of poet.

Your unforgivable sins do not allow you to see my splendor.

It may be that universal history is the history of the different intonations given a handful of metaphors.

In adultery, there is usually tenderness and self-sacrifice; in murder, courage; in profanation and blasphemy, a certain satanic splendour. Judas elected those offences unvisited by any virtues: abuse of confidence and informing.