“Always be a poet, even in prose.”

“Inspiration comes of working every day.”

“Everything for me becomes allegory.”

“My heart is lost; the beasts have eaten it.”

“My love, do you recall the object which we saw, That fair, sweet, summer morn! At a turn in the path a foul carcass On a gravel strewn bed, Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman,...”

“Minutes, foolish mortal, are the base mineral that you must not let go of without extracting their gold!”

“When I was young I lived a constant storm, Though now and then the brilliant suns shot through, So in my garden few red fruits were born, The rain and thunder had so much to do. - The Enemy”