Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.
Impatience is the mark of independence, not of bondage.
Conscious writing can be the death of poetry.
They fought the enemy, we fight fat living and self-pity. Shine, o shine, unfalsifying sun, on this sick scene.
Honesty - however dangerous - should be as valuable as radium it seems to me.
I'm troubled. I'm dissatisfied. I'm Irish.