I am naked and a beggar and an atom in the vortex of humanity. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Idiot. (Modern Library; New edition edition, April 8, 2003) Originally published 1869.
Maybe poems are made of breath, the way water, cajoled to boil, says, This is my soul, freed. — Dean Young, from “Scarecrow on Fire,” Bender: New and Selected Poems (Copper Canyon Press, 2012)
I am not interested in being original. I am interested in being true. ― Agostinho da Silva