The dripping blood our only drink, The bloody flesh our only food: In spite of which we like to think That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

Do I dare disturb the universe?

No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone.

To each individual the world will take on a different connotation of meaning-the important lies in the desire to search for an answer.

I am an Anglo-Catholic in religion, a classicist in literature and a royalist in politics.

Old men ought to be explorers.