I have measured out my life with coffee spoons. |
It's strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words. |
Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers. |
April is the cruellest month. |
Where there is no temple there shall be no homes. |
People to whom nothing has ever happened cannot understand the unimportance of events. |
Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal. |
I am an Anglo-Catholic in religion, a classicist in literature and a royalist in politics. |
And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness. |
My greatest trouble is getting the curtain up and down. |
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go. |
This love is silent. |
There is no method but to be very intelligent. |
Poetry may make us from time to time a little more aware of the deeper, unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves. |
If you aren't in over your head, how do you know how tall you are? |
The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of personality. |
As things are, and as fundamentally they must always be, poetry is not a career, but a mug's game. No honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: He may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing. |
A toothache, or a violent passion, is not necessarily diminished by our knowledge of its causes, its character, its importance or insignificance. |
In my beginning is my end. |
Let's not be narrow, nasty, and negative. |