Anyone can escape into sleep, we are all geniuses when we dream, the butcher's the poet's equal there.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Man is a genius when he is dreaming.
Someone who's awake in the middle of the night is a soul consciousness when everyone else is asleep, and that creates a feeling of solitude in poetry that I very much like.
In sleep, you are safe from the revolting mechanics of living and being a prey to outrageous fortune.
The poet knows himself only on the condition that things resound in him, and that in him, at a single awakening, they and he come forth together out of sleep.
They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.
All genius is a conquering of chaos and mystery.
Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.
There is in every madman a misunderstood genius whose idea, shining in his head, frightened people, and for whom delirium was the only solution to the strangulation that life had prepared for him.
No man's brain is so dull, and no man's eye so blind, that they cannot catch food for dreams.
Let the poets cry themselves to sleep, and all their tearful words will turn back into steam.
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