I suspect that in our loathing of totalitarianism, there is infused a good deal of admiration for its efficiency.

In the life of one man, never The same time returns.

What profession is more trying than that of author? After you finish a piece of work it only seems good to you for a few weeks; or if it seems good at all you are convinced that it is the last you will be able to write; and if it seems bad you wonder whether everything you have done isn’t poor stuff really; and it is one kind of agony while you are writing, and another kind when you aren’t.

Taking the question in general, I should say, in the case of many poets, that the most important thing for them to do ... is to write as little as possible

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

Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs, rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys, advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm, retreating to the corner of arm and knee, eager to be reassured, taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree.

The more perfect the artist, the more completely separate in him will be the man who suffers and the mind which creates.