We are not commanded (or forbidden) to love our mates, our children, our friends, our country because such affections come naturally to us and are good in themselves, although we may corrupt them. We are commanded to love our neighbor because our natural attitude toward the other is one of either indifference or hostility.

Every poet has his dream reader: mine keeps a look out for curious prosodic fauna like bacchics and choriambs.

Our claim to our own bodies and our world is our catastrophe.

In times of joy, all of us wished we possessed a tail we could wag.

No human being is innocent, but there is a class of innocent human actions called Games.

Be subtle, various, ornamental, clever, And do not listen to those critics ever Whose crude provincial gullets crave in books Plain cooking made still plainer by plain cooks.

There are good books which are only for adults. There are no good books which are only for children.