Sometimes I wonder if beauty like all other feelings is just chemical and unconscious. The thinking is a game of words where logic should be the rule, however not always. Here is one piece of evidence: “Beauty hates ideas. It is sufficient to itself. A work of art is beautiful just as a person is beautiful. The beauty I speak of provokes an erection in the soul. One cannot argue with an erection.”
Sometimes I wonder if word is the last way for us to reach the faraway universe. Other senses are so local and thus limited in time and space. “The absence of rules in poetry forces the poet to discover methods that bestow upon his work the mystique of a secret cult ritual.”
If all love is one at the first sight, “all beautiful writing is automatic.”
“A poet should be recognizable not by his style but by the way in which he looks at things.”