I think we are in rats’ alley Where the dead men lost their bones.

Any poet, if he is to survive beyond his 25th year, must alter; he must seek new literary influences; he will have different emotions to express.

No generation is interested in art in quite the same way as any other; each generation, like each individual, brings to the contemplation of art its own categories of appreciation, makes its own demands upon art, and has its own uses for art.

In the last few years everything I'd done up to sixty or so has seemed very childish.

We might remind ourselves that criticism is as inevitable as breathing, and that we should be none the worse for articulating what passes in our minds when we read a book and feel an emotion about it, for criticizing our own minds in their work of criticism.

Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow

Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech