Poetry remembers that it was an oral art before it was a written art.

A writer should have another lifetime to see if he's appreciated.

You will reply that reality hasn't the slightest need to be of interest. And I'll answer you that reality may avoid the obligation to be interesting, but that hypotheses may not. In the hypothesis you have postulated, chance intervenes largely. Here lies a dead rabbi; I should prefer a purely rabbinical explanation; not the imaginary mischances of an imaginary robber.

I suppose identity depends on memory. And if my memory is blotted out, then I wonder if I exist - I mean, if I am the same person. Of course, I don't have to solve that problem. It's up to God, if any.

I don't think there's any essential difference, at least for me, between writing poetry and writing prose.

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

If I were asked to name the chief event in my life, I should say my father's library.