To Verify Images Kills Them,

In Our Life As A Civilized Person In The Industrial Age, We Are Invaded By Objects; How Could An Object Have A "force" When It No Longer Has Individuality?

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!

True Poetry Is A Function Of Awakening. It Awakens Us, But It Must Retain The Memory Of Previous Dreams.

When The Image Is New, The World Is New.

It Is Quite Evident That A Barrier Must Be Cleared In Order To Escape The Psychologists And Enter Into A Realm Which Is Not "auto-observant", Where We Ourselves No Longer Divide Ourselves Into Observer And Observed. Then The Dreamer Is Completely Dissolved In His Reverie. His Reverie Is His Silent Life. It Is That Silent Peace Which The Poet Wants To Convey To Us.