Past art is subject to change.

Everyone's alone - or so it seems to me. They make noises, and think they are talking to each other; They make faces, and think they understand each other. And I'm sure they don't. Is that a delusion?

Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers.

I gotta use words to talk to you.

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.

I do not believe that any writer has ever exposed this bovarysme, the human will to see things as they are not, more clearly than Shakespeare.

It is a test (a positive test, I do not assert that it is always valid negatively), that genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.