He is not handsome, but looks as the author of his books should look: a little strange and odd, as if not of this earth. - Maria Popova

Once a poem is made available to the public, the right of interpretation belongs to the reader,

Beauty magnetizes curiosity and wonder, beckoning us to discover — in the literal sense, to uncover and unconceal — what lies beneath the surface of the human label. What we recognize as beauty may be a language for encoding truth, a memetic mechanism for transmitting it, as native to the universe as mathematics — the one perceived by the optical eye, the other by the mind's eye.

It is a beautiful impulse to contain the infinite in the finite, to rest order from the chaos, to construct a foothold so we may climb towards higher truth. It is also a limiting one, for in naming things we often come to mistake the names for the things themselves.