As life grows more terrible, its literature grows more terrible.

If some really acute observer made as much of egotism as Freud has made of sex, people would forget a good deal about sex and find the explanation for everything in egotism.

All poetry is experimental poetry.

The yellow glistens. It glistens with various yellows, Citrons, oranges and greens Flowering over the skin.

Poetry is a means of redemption.

The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.

Imagination...is the irrepressible revolutionist.