There never was a war that was not inward.
Men are monopolists of "stars, garters, buttons and other shining baubles"- unfit to be the guardians of another person's happiness.
Poetry, that is to say the poetic, is a primal necessity.
What is our innocence, What is our guilt? All are naked, none is safe.
A writer is unfair to himself when he is unable to be hard on himself.
When one cannot appraise out of one's own experience, the temptation to blunder is minimized, but even when one can, appraisal seems chiefly useful as appraisal of the appraiser.