It Seems Everything Is So Full Of

Picasso Said Once When Being Interviewed That One Should Not Be One's Own Connoisseur.

All Poetry Comes From Repetition.

I've Had Trouble With Criticism, I Guess. It's Hard To Know What Role Criticism Plays In Either Encouraging Poets Or In Getting Other People To Read Them.

One Day The Nouns Were Clustered In The Street. An Adjective Walked By, With Her Dark Beauty. The Nouns Were Struck, Moved, Changed. The Next Day A Verb Drove Up, And Created The Sentence.

Certainly, It Seems True Enough That There's A Good Deal Of Irony In The World... I Mean, If You Live In A World Full Of Politicians And Advertising, There's Obviously A Lot Of Deception.