The problem wiv some blokes is that wen they ain't drunk, they're sober.

A line will take us hours maybe; Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught.

I have found nothing half so good / As my long-planned half solitude, / Where I can sit up half the night / With some friend that has the wit.

The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood.

We had fed the heart on fantasies, The heart's grown brutal from the fare, More substance in our enmities Than in our love

The falcon cannot hear the falconer

I balanced all, brought all to mind, the years to come seemed waste of breath, a waste of breath the years behind, in balance with this life, this death.