A roll of the dice will never abolish chance.
In reading, a lonely quiet concert is given to our minds; all our mental faculties will be present in this symphonic exaltation.
The poet Mallarmé listened to the painter Degas complaining about his inability to write poems even though he was full of ideas. My dear Degas, Mallarmé responded, poems are not made out of ideas. They're made out of words.
It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.
The world exists to end up in a book.
You don't make a poem with ideas, but with words.