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In midmost of the stream, embraced in the weir's shimmering arm-spread, a small island lay anchored, fringed close with willow and silver birch and alder. Reserved, shy, but full of significance, it hid whatever it might hold behind a veil, keeping it till the hour should come, and, with the hour, those who were called and chosen.

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Gaston Bachelard

A book is always an emergence above everyday life. A book is expressed life and thus is an addition to life.

Addition, Book, Emergence, Everyday, Expressed, Life
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Love is never finished expressing itself, and it expresses itself better the more poetically it is dreamed.

Dreamed, Finished, Love, Love Is, Poetically

The reverie we intend to study is poetic reverie. This is a reverie which poetry puts on the right track, the track an expanding consciousness follows. This reverie is written, or, at least, promises to be written. It is already facing the great universe of the blank page. Then images begin to compose and fall into place.

Compose, Expanding, Fall, Poetry, Promises, Track

The human being taken in his profound reality as well as in his great tension of becoming is a divided being, a being which divides again, having permitted himself the illusion of unity for barely an instant. He divides and then reunites.

Barely, Becoming, Profound, Reality, Taken, Unity

Childhood lasts all through life. It returns to animate broad sections of adult life. . . . Poets will help us to find this living childhood within us, this permanent, durable immobile world.

Adults, Animate, Childhood, Life, Returns

A word is a bud attempting to become a twig. How can one not dream while writing? It is the pen which dreams. The blank page gives the right to dream.

Blank, Dream, Giving, Page, Twig, Writing
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