The Philosopher Caught In The Nets Of

God Is A Thought Who Makes Crooked All That Is Straight.

It Is With Artworks As It Is With Wine: It Is Much Better When We Do Not Need Either One, When We Stick With Water, And When Out Of Our Own Inner Fire, The Inner Sweetness Of Our Own Soul, We Turn The Water Over And Over Again Into Wine Ourselves.

Man Alone Resists The Direction Of Gravitation: He Constantly Wants To Fall--upwards.

The Thought Of Suicide Is A Great Source Of Comfort: With It A Calm Passage Is To Be Made Across Many A Bad Night.

We Talk So Abstractly About Poetry Because All Of Us Are Usually Bad Poets.