The intellectual is a middle-class product; if he is not born into the class he must soon insert himself into it, in order to exist. He is the fine nervous flower of the bourgeoisie.

A thousand kindnesses do not make up for a thousand blows.

All art, in spite of the struggles of some critics to prove otherwise, is based on emotion and projects emotion.

I don't like quintessential certitude.

The measured blood beats out the year's delay.

The Initial Mystery that attends any journey is: how did the traveler reach his starting point in the first place?

Up from the bronze, I saw Water without a flaw Rush to its rest in air Reach to its rest, and fall.