The Poetic Image Exists Apart From Causality.

To Disappear Into Deep Water Or To Disappear Toward A Far Horizon, To Become Part Of Depth Of Infinity, Such Is The Destiny Of Man That Finds Its Image In The Destiny Of Water.

It Is Through The Intentionality Of Poetic Imagination That The Poet's Soul Discovers The Opening Of Consciousness Common To All True Poetry.

Actually, However, Life Begins Less By Reaching Upward, Than By Turning Upon Itself. But What A Marvelously Insidious, Subtle Image Of Life A Coiling Vital Principle Would Be! And How Many Dreams The Leftward Oriented Shell, Or One That Did Not Conform To The Rotation Of Its Species, Would Inspire!

Reverie Is Not A Mind Vacuum. It Is Rather The Gift Of An Hour Which Knows The Plenitude Of The Soul.

We Comfort Ourselves By Reliving Memories Of Protection. Something Closed Must Retain Our Memories, While Leaving Them Their Original Value As Images. Memories Of The Outside World Will Never Have The Same Tonality As Those Of Home And, By Recalling These Memories, We Add To Our Store Of Dreams; We Are Never Real Historians, But Always Near Poets, And Our Emotion Is Perhaps Nothing But An Expression Of A Poetry That Was Lost.