Where to start? Everything cracks and shakes, The air trembles with similes, No one world's better than another; the earth moans with metaphors.

And I walk out of space Into an overgrown garden of values, And tear up seeming stability And self-comprehension of causes. And your, infinity, textbook I read by myself, without people - Leafless, savage medical book, A problem book of gigantic radicals.

A raznochinets needs no memory—it is enough for him to tell of the books he has read, and his biography is done.

I was stopped in the dense Soviet wood by bandits who called themselves my judges.

Poetry is the plough that turns up time in such a way that the abyssal strata of time, its black earth, appear on the surface.

Logic is the kingdom of the unexpected. To think logically means to be continually amazed.

Only in Russia poetry is respected - it gets people killed.