It is easy to suppose that few people realize on that occasion, which comes to all of us, when we look at the blue sky for the first time, that is to say: not merely see it, but look at it and experience it and for the first time have a sense that we live in the center of a physical poetry, a geography that would be intolerable except for the non-geography that exists there - few people realize that they are looking at the world of their own thoughts and the world of their own feelings.

They said, 'You have a blue guitar, / You do not play things as they are.' / The man replied, 'Things as they are / Are changed upon the blue guitar.'

Life is not free from its forms.

Thought is an infection. In the case of certain thoughts, it becomes an epidemic.

The philosopher proves that the philosopher exists. The poet merely enjoys existence.

One must read poetry with one's nerves.

The reason can give nothing at all Like the response to desire.