“The day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.”
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The actual tragedies of life bear no relation to one's preconceived ideas. In the event, one is always bewildered by their simplicity, their grandeur of design, and by that element of the bizarre which seems inherent in them.
A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses.
Art is not a pastime but a priesthood.
You've never seen death? Look in the mirror every day and you will see it like bees working in a glass hive.
