Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.
What we suffer, what we endure, what we muff, what we kill, what we miss, what we are guilty of, is done by us, as individuals, in private.
O remember In your narrowing dark hours That more things move Than blood in the heart.
Poetry is often generations in advance of the thought of its time.
Because language is the carrier of ideas, it is easy to believe that it should be very little else than such a carrier.
The measured blood beats out the year's delay.