Poetry and progress are like two ambitious men who hate one another with an instinctive hatred, and when they meet upon the same road, one of them has to give place.
Inspiration comes of working every day.
It is from the womb of art that criticism was born.
There is no more steely barb than that of the Infinite.
Sexuality is the lyricism of the masses.
Any man who does not accept the conditions of life sells his soul.
