At midnight tears Run into your ears.

The art of one period cannot be approached through the attitudes (emotional or intellectual) of another.

... politics are nothing but sand and gravel: it is art and life that feed us until we die. Everything else is ambition, hysteria or hatred.

O remember In your narrowing dark hours That more things move Than blood in the heart.

I have lost faith in universal panaceas - work is the one thing in which I really believe.

The measured blood beats out the year's delay.

At midnight tears Run into your ears.