The poem refreshes life so that we share, For a moment, the first idea . . . It satisfies Belief in an immaculate beginning And sends us, winged by an unconscious will, To an immaculate end.

The monastic man is an artist.The philosopher Appoints man's place in music, say, today. But the priest desires. The philosopher desires. And not to have is th…

The poem, through candor, brings back a power again That gives a candid kind to everything.

So poisonous Are the ravishments of truth, so fatal to The truth itself, the first idea becomes The hermit in a poet's metaphors, Who comes and goes and comes …

The poet never asks for admiration; he wants to be believed.

There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.

Ce qui fait le poete, n'est-ce pas l'amour, la recherche desesperee du moindre rayon de soleil d'autrefois jouant sur le parquet d'une chambre d'enfant?