All a poet can do today is warn.
A Poem does not grow by jerks. As trees in Spring produce a new ring of tissue, so does every poet put forth a fresh outlay of stuff at the same season.
If I have to be a soldier I must be a good one, anything else is unthinkable
Flying is the only active profession I could ever continue with enthusiasm after the War.
All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.
When I begin to eliminate from the list all those professions which are impossible from a financial point of view and then those which I feel disinclined to-it leaves nothing