I think there was a revolution in poetry, associated chiefly with Eliot and Pound; but maybe it is of the nature of revolutions or of the nature of history that their innovations should later come to look trivial or indistinguishable from technical tricks.

History is where tensions were.

Till I, high in the tower of my time Among familiar ruins, began to cry For accident, sickness, justice, war and crime, Because all died, because I had to die. The snow fell, the trees stood, the promise kept, And a child I slept.

Nothing in the universe can travel at the speed of light, they say, forgetful of the shadow's speed.

I think there's one thing which distinguishes our art - we don't consider. We don't think. We write a little verse because it comes to us.

Once in awhile you have a thought, and you rhyme it.

I've never read a political poem that's accomplished anything. Poetry makes things happen, but rarely what the poet wants.