The folly of mistaking a paradox for a discovery, a metaphor for a proof, a torrent of verbiage for a spring of capital truths, and oneself for an oracle, is inborn in us.
God made everything out of nothing. But the nothingness shows through.
We are enriched by our reciprocate differences.
Conscience reigns but it does not govern.
A man who is 'of sound mind' is one who keeps the inner madman under lock and key.
My poems mean what people take them to mean.