Bad poets imitate, good poets steal.

The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different from that from which it was torn; the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion.

Poetry is not an assertion of truth, but the making of that truth more fully real to us.

The role of art is not to express the personality but to overcome it.

The dream crossed twilight between birth and dying.

In my beginning is my end. In succession Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended, Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass. Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires, Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth Which is already flesh, fur and faeces, Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.

There is no method but to be very intelligent.