The writing of a poem is like a child throwing stones into a mineshaft. You compose first, then you listen read more

The writing of a poem is like a child throwing stones into a mineshaft. You compose first, then you listen for the reverberation.

Reality is that part of the imagination we all agree on

Reality is that part of the imagination we all agree on

Only those things are beautiful which are inspired by madness and written by reason.

Only those things are beautiful which are inspired by madness and written by reason.

Your goals, minus your doubts, equal your reality.

Your goals, minus your doubts, equal your reality.

Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

People see the world not as it is, but as they are.

People see the world not as it is, but as they are.

We cultivate literature on a little oat-meal.

We cultivate literature on a little oat-meal.

But, indeed, we prefer books to pounds; and we love manuscripts
better than florins; and we prefer small pamphlets read more

But, indeed, we prefer books to pounds; and we love manuscripts
better than florins; and we prefer small pamphlets to war horses.

When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf read more

When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf to rest upon;What would not I give to wanderWhere my old companions dwell?Absence makes the heart grow fonder,Isle of Beauty, fare thee well! - Paradise Lost.