Best thing to happen for a poet. A fine death, no? An impressive death.

A system is nothing more than the subordination of all aspects of the universe to any one of such aspects.

All writing is dreaming

The art of writing is mysterious, the opinions we hold are ephemeral.

While we are asleep in this world, we are awake in another one

Time is the substance of which we are made

Man's memory shapes Its own Eden within