Most things may never happen: this one will.

The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said.

I feel the only thing you can do about life is to preserve it, by art if you're an artist, by children if you're not.

As a child, I thought I hated everybody, but when I grew up I realized it was just children I didn't like.

Depression hangs over me as if I were Iceland.

I am not sure, once a poet has found out what has been written already, and how it was written - once, in short, he has learnt his trade - that he should bother with literature at all. Poetry is not like surgery, a technique that can be copied. Every operation the poet performs is unique, and need never be done again.

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.