The reason modern poetry is difficult is so that the poet's wife cannot understand it.

I've said what I'm prepared to say in my poems, and then journalists think that you're going to tell them a whole lot more.

My heart has made its mind up And I’m afraid it’s you. Whatever you’ve got lined up, My heart has made its mind up And if you can’t be signed up This year, next year will do. My heart has made its mind up And I’m afraid it’s you.

The interesting thing is that you don't often meet a poet who doesn't have a sense of humour, and some of them do keep it out of their poems because they're afraid of being seen as light versifiers.

Bloody Christmas, here again, let us raise a loving cup, peace on earth, goodwill to men, and make them do the washing up.

I have a theory that if you've got the kind of parents who want to send you to boarding school, you're probably better off at boarding school.

When a poem doesn't work, the first question to ask yourself is, 'Am I telling the truth?'