Sexual intercourse began in 1963 ... / Between the end of the Chatterley ban/ and the Beatles first LP

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape. It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know, Have always known, know that we can't escape, Yet can't accept. One side will have to go. Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring Intricate rented world begins to rouse. The sky is white as clay, with no sun. Work has to be done. Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

The only way to eliminate unemployment is to eliminate unemployment benefits.

Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, and don't have any kids yourself.

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, / Shaped to the comfort of the last to go / As if to win them back

Everyone should be forcibly transplanted to another continent from their family at the age of three.

I think a young poet, or an old poet, for that matter, should try to produce something that pleases himself personally, not only when he's written it but a couple of weeks later. Then he should see if it pleases anyone else, by sending it to the kind of magazine he likes reading.