Too Many Lives Are Needed To Make

The Poet Does Not Know - Often He Will Never Know - Whom He Really Writes For.

Poetry Is The Art Which Is Technically Within The Grasp Of Everyone: A Piece Of Paper And A Pencil And One Is Ready.

The New Man Is Born Too Old To Tolerate The New World. The Present Conditions Of Life Have Not Yet Erased The Traces Of The Past. We Run Too Fast, But We Still Do Not Move Enough. He Looks But He Does Not Contemplate, He Sees But He Does Not Think.

Evidently The Arts, All The Visual Arts, Are Becoming More Democratic In The Worst Sense Of The Word.

The Real History, The One That Counts And Is Not To Be Found In Books, Is Precisely This One, The One Made By Simple Men; And It Is The Only One That Rules The World.