I listen to music a great deal. In a way, it's trying to express things that can't be expressed in words. That's something that interests me, too. Even though I use words to express myself, I am trying to, it seems to me, get beyond that.

To the poet as a basement quilt, but perhaps To some reader a latticework of regrets.

Poetry is mostly hunches.

A perfect example of the new republic's urge to drape itself with the togas of classical respectability.

I lost my ridiculous accent without acquiring another

The first year was like icing. Then the cake started to show through.

The term ignorant is indeed perhaps an overstatement, implying as it does that something is known somewhere, whereas in reality we are not even sure of this: we in fact cannot aver with any degree of certainty that we are ignorant. Yet this is not so bad; we have at any rate kept our open-mindedness -- that, at least, we may be sure that we have -- and are not in any danger, or so it seems, of freezing into the pious attitudes of those true spiritual bigots whose faces are turned toward eternity and who therefore can see nothing.