It Only Takes One Match To Ignite

To Write A Poem Is Like Trying To Catch A Lizard Without Its Tail Falling Off.

An Idea Is Like A Rare Bird Which Cannot Be Seen. What One Sees Is The Trembling Of The Branch It Has Just Left.

Life, The Raw Material, Is Only Lived In Potentia Until The Artist Deploys It In His Work.

Art Like Life Is An Open Secret.

Let Us Define 'man' As A Poet Perpetually Conspiring Against Himself.