Talent imitates, but genius steals.
In a world of fugitives the one who stays home will seem to be running away
Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity.
As we grow older, the world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated of dead and living.
That is the worst moment, when you feel you have lost / The desires for all that was most desirable, / Before you are contented with what you can desire; / Before you know what is left to be desired; / And you go on wishing that you could desire / What desire has left behind.
Would it have been worth while, To have bitten off the matter with a smile, To have squeezed the universe into a ball To roll it towards some overwhelming question