Occupation: Poet Birth: December 8, 1913 Death: July 11, 1966
I always cause those who are near to me more suffering than pleasure..
Literature doesn't matter! The only thing that matters is money and getting your teeth fixed!.
Order and disorder, form and formless must have profound psychological roots, nervous roots..
How the false truths of the years of youth have passed!Have passed at full speed like trains which never stoppedThere where I stood and waited, hardl….
I admired my father very much... at the age of sixteen. But now I see that he was a brutal and cruel man, - but not without remorse, and that was wha….
How could I think the brief years were enough To prove the reality of endless love?.
Existentialism means that no one else can take a bath for you..
Whence, if ever, shall come the actualityOf a voice speaking the mind's knowing,The sunlight bright on the green windowshade,And the self articulate,….
What does long life avail? The best seats at the funerals of friends..
The Jew is at once alienated and indestructible; he is in exile from his own country and in exile even from himself, yet he survives the annihilating….
Major writing is to say that which has been seen, so that it need never be said again; so that which has been seen increases, changes in reality, in ….
Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage. Courage is the most desperate, admirable and noble kind of love..
And hence the poet must seek to be essentially anonymous, He must die a little death each morning, He must swallow his toad and study his vomit as Ba….
Time is the school in which we learn, time is the fire in which we burn..
I am of Russian-Jewish distraction..
Each minute bursts in the burning room,The great globe reels in the solar fire,Spinning the trivial and unique away.(How all things flash! How all th….
Love is the tact of every good, The only warmth, the only peace..
O your life, your lonely lifeWhat have you ever done with it,And done with the great gift of consciousness?What will you ever do before Death's knife….
What was the freedom to which the adult human being rose in the morning, if each act was held back or inspired by the overpowering ghost of a little ….
Even paranoids have real enemies..
Literary Party: A traffic jam of the lost waiting for the ferry across the Styx..