Pointless. . . . Like giving caviar to an elephant.

Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do.

The scattered tea goes with the leaves and every day a sunset dies.

Let the past abolish the past when -- and if -- it can substitute something better.

The artist is of no importance. Only what he creates is important, since there is nothing new to be said. Shakespeare, Balzac, Homer have all written about the same things, and if they had lived one thousand or two thousand years longer, the publishers wouldn't have needed anyone since.

...the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.

How do our lives ravel out into the no-wind, no-sound, the weary gestures wearily recapitulant: echoes of old compulsions with no-hand on no-string: in sunset we fall into furious attitudes, dead gestures of dolls.