Be helpful, even if it compromises you. - Jean Cocteau

There is neither magic nor master's eye. Only a great deal of love and a great deal of work.

Poetry is an ethic. By ethic I mean a secret code of behavior, a discipline constructed and conducted according to the capabilities of a man who rejects the falsifications of the categorical imperative. This personal morality may appear to be immorality itself in the eyes of those who lie to themselves, or who live a life of confusion, in such a manner that, for them, a lie becomes the truth, and our truth becomes a lie...

What uniform can I wear to hide my heavy heart? It is too heavy. It will always show.