It is not necessarily those lands which are the most fertile or most favored in climate that seem to me the happiest, but those in which a long struggle of adaptation between man and his environment has brought out the best qualities of both.

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.

This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper.

A tradition without intelligence is not worth having.

Let's not be narrow, nasty, and negative.

Between the desire And the spasm, Between the potency And the existence, Between the essence And the descent, Falls the Shadow.

That was my way of putting it-not very satisfactory: A periphrastic study in a worn-out poetical fashion, Leaving one still with the intolerable wrestle With words and meanings.