Our bloom is gone. We are the fruit thereof.
Key West, unfortunately, is becoming rather literary and artistic.
Death is the mother of Beauty; hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.
The poet's function is to make his imagination . . . become the light in the mind of others. His role, in short, is to help people to live their lives.
Throw away the light, the definitions, and say what you see in the dark.
Compare the silent rose of the sun And rain, the blood-rose living in its smell, With this paper, this dust. That states the point.