Poetic knowledge is born in the great silence of scientific knowledge.
Reason, I sacrifice you to the evening breeze.
It is no use painting the foot of the tree white, the strength of the bark cries out from beneath the paint.
I have a different idea of a universal. It is of a universal rich with all that is particular, rich with all the particulars there are, the deepening of each particular, the coexistence of them all.