I Have A Piece Of Great And

My Method Is Simple: Not To Bother About Poetry. It Must Come Of Its Own Accord. Merely Whispering Its Name Drives It Away.

Take A Commonplace, Clean It And Polish It, Light It So That It Produces The Same Effect Of Youth And Freshness And Originality And Spontaneity As It Did Originally, And You Have Done A Poet's Job. The Rest Is Literature.

Everything One Does In Life, Even Love, Occurs In An Express Train Racing Toward Death. To Smoke Opium Is To Get Out Of The Train While It Is Still Moving. It Is To Concern Oneself With Something Other Than Life Or Death.

If It Has To Choose Who Is To Be Crucified, The Crowd Will Always Save Barabbas.

Do As The Beautiful Woman: See To Your Figure And Your Petticoats. Though, Of Course, I Am Not Speaking Literally.