Fame often makes a writer vain, but seldom makes him proud.

The poet marries the language, and out of this marriage the poem is born.

In addition to English, at least one ancient language, probably Greek or Hebrew, and two modern languages would be required.

The stars are dead. The animals will not look: We are left alone with our day, and the time is short, and History to the defeated May say Alas but cannot help nor pardon.

Words are for those with promises to keep.

The commonest ivory tower is that of the average man, the state of passivity towards experience.

The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews Not to be born is the best for man The second best is a formal order The dance's pattern, dance while you can. Dance, dance, for the figure is easy The tune is catching and will not stop Dance till the stars come down from the rafters Dance, dance, dance till you drop.