A House That Has Been Experienced Is

One Doesn't Read Poetry While Thinking Of Other Things.

Whoever Lives For Poetry Must Read Everything. How Often Has The Light Of A New Idea Sprung For Me From A Simple Brochure! When One Allows Himself To Be Animated By New Images, He Discovers Iridescence In The Images Of Old Books. Poetic Ages Unite In A Living Memory. The New Age Awakens The Old. The Old Age Comes To Live Again In The New. Poetry Is Never As Unified As When It Diversifies.

Our House Is Our Corner Of The World.

Rilke Wrote: 'these Trees Are Magnificent, But Even More Magnificent Is The Sublime And Moving Space Between Them, As Though With Their Growth It Too Increased.

A Universe Comes To Contribute To Our Happiness When Reverie Comes To Accentuate Our Repose. You Must Tell The Man Who Wants To Dream Well To Begin By Being Happy. Then Reverie Plays Out Its Veritable Destiny; It Becomes Poetic Reverie And By It, In It, Everything Becomes Beautiful. If The Dreamer Had "the Gift" He Would Turn His Reverie Into A Work. And This Work Would Be Grandiose Since The Dreamed World Is Automatically Grandiose.