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

A thousand kindnesses do not make up for a thousand blows.

No more pronouncements on lousy verse. No more hidden competition. No more struggling not to be a square.

True revolutions in art restore more than they destroy.

I'll lie here and learn How, over their ground, Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.

... 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.

But it's silly to suggest the writing of poetry is something ethereal, a sort of soul-crashing, devastating emotional experience that wrings you. I have no fancy ideas about poetry. ... It doesn't come to you on the wings of a dove. It's something you have to work hard at.