the ordinary man's experience is chaotic, irregular, fragmentary. [He] falls in love or reads Spinoza, and these two experiences have nothing to do with each other, or with the noise of the typewriter, or the smell of cooking; in the mind of the poet these experiences are always forming new wholes

Envy is everywhere. Who is without envy? And most people Are unaware or unashamed of being envious.

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

We fight to keep something alive rather than in the expectation that anything will triumph.

April is the cruellest month.

We can say of Shakespeare, that never has a man turned so little knowledge to such great account.

He who was living is now dead We who were living are now dying With a little patience.