But we shall not know the world by looking at it; we know it by looking at the hovering fly.
We know the particular poem, not what it says that we can restate.
The only real evidence that any critic may bring before his gaze is the finished poem.
Men expect too much, do too little.
There is probably nothing wrong with art for art's sake if we take the phrase seriously, and not take it to mean the kind of poetry written in England forty years ago.
What is the poem, after it is written? That is the question. Not where it came from or why.