rummaging in the storehouses of religious or literary history for myth-matter for ideational uses is of the nature of spiritual vulgarity.

Nature is what you don't have to trouble about. It looks after itself.

In religion is much tiredness of people, a giving over of their doing to Someone Else.

We live on the circumference of a hollow circle. We draw the circumference, like spiders, out of ourselves: it is all criticism of criticism.

Every thought sounds like a footfall, Till a thought like a boot kicks down the wall.

To a poet the mere making of a poem can seem to solve the problem of truth…but only a problem of art is solved in poetry.

Appearances do not deceive if there are enough of them.