"What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed that as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like beautiful music."
The imagination imitates. It is the critical spirit that creates.
I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God's hands, that I still possess.
Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love.