Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear

It's a rare thing not to have been bonny-- once.

All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.

If you don't know where you are currently standing, you're dead.

That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.

To be an artist is to fail, as no other dare fail, that failure is his world and the shrink from desertion, art and craft, good housekeeping, living.

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.