Poetry Is A Religion Without Hope, But

Commissions Suit Me. They Set Limits. Jean Marais Dared Me To Write Play In Which He Would Not Speak In The First Act, Would Weep For Joy In The Second And In The Last Would Fall Backward Down A Flight Of Stairs.

The Greatest Masterpiece In Literature Is Only A Dictionary Out Of Order.

Appreciation Of Art Is A Moral Erection, Otherwise Mere Dilettantism.

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

One Sits Down First; One Thinks Afterwards.