Maxwell Bodenheim Quotes

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

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

Words are soldiers of fortune hired by different ideas.

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.

Thank you for inviting me to your house, but I prefer to dine in the Greek restaurant at Wabash Avenue and 12th Street where I will be limited to finding dead flies in my soup.

Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the colour of the wind.