To country people Cows are mild, And flee from any stick they throw; But I’m a timid town bred child, And all the cattle seem to know.

I hate university towns and university people, who are the same everywhere, with pregnant wives, sprawling children, many books and hideous pictures on the walls ... Oxford is very pretty, but I don't like to be dead.

It is only in the world of objects that we have time and space and selves.

The poet's mind is in fact a receptacle for seizing and storing up numberless feelings, phrases, images, which remain there until all the particles which can unite to form a new compound are present together.

Today, you're halfway to 100! Here's to optimism, whether it is realistic or not. Happy 50th birthday!

Because I know that time is always time And place is always and only place.

If you aren't in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?