In a sense, every tool is a machine--the hammer, the ax, and the chisel. And every machine is a tool. The real distinction is between one man using a tool with his hands and producing an object that shows at every stage the direction of his will and the impression of his personality; and a machine which is producing, without the intervention of a particular man, objects of a uniformity and precision that show no individual variation and have no personal charm. The problem is to decide whether the objects of machine production can possess the essential qualities of art.

The farther a society progresses, the more clearly the individual becomes the antithesis of the group.

It will be a gay world. There will be lights everywhere except in the minds of men, and the fall of the last civilization will not be heard above the din.

If the individual is a unit in a corporate mass, his life is not merely brutish and short, but dull and mechanical.

It is not my purpose as a poet to condemn war (or to be exact, modern warfare). I only wish to present the universal aspects of a particular event.

A man of personality can formulate ideals, but only a man of character can achieve them.

The sensitive artist knows that a bitter wind is blowing.