It gives a man character as a poet to have a daily contact with a job. I doubt whether I've lost a thing by leading an exceedingly regular and disciplined life.
The poet makes silk dresses out of worms.
The house was quiet and the world was calm. The reader became the book.
Life is the elimination of what is dead.
Imagination is the will of things. . . .
I am the angel of Reality, Seen for a moment standing in the door.