About loving, I have little to learn from the young.
It is the privilege of those who fear love to murder those who do not fear it!
At any moment solitude may put on the face of loneliness.
In the novel or the journal you get the journey. In a poem you get the arrival.
They are commiting murder who merely live.
It is dangerous it seems to me for a civilization when there is a complete abyss betewen people in general and the artists. Or is it always so? The poets who are most ardently on the people's side write in such a way that the people cannot see rhyme nor reason to their work.