Time present and time past / are both perhaps present in time future.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
Each venture Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate With shabby equipment always deteriorating In the general mess of imprecision of feeling.
Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.
We do not pass twice through the same door Or return to the door through which we did not pass.