Maxwell Bodenheim Quotes

For me, poetry is an impish attempt to paint the colour of the wind.

Words are soldiers of fortune hired by different ideas.

H. L. Mencken suffers from the hallucination that he is H. L. Mencken - there is no cure for a disease of that magnitude.

Reality is a formless lure, And only when we know this Do we dare to be unreal.

Time is but a phantom dagger
That motion lifts to slay itself.