It is not fair to be old, to put on a brown sweater.

History must stay open, it is all humanity.

The poem springs from the half spoken words of the patient.... When asked, how I have for so many years continued an equal interest in medicine and the poem, I reply that they amount for me to nearly the same thing.

By listening to his language of his locality the poet begins to learn his craft. It is his function to lift, by use of imagination and the language he hears, the material conditions and appearances of his environment to the sphere of the intelligence where they will have new currency.

That which is possible is inevitable.

What can any of us do with his talent but try to develop his vision, so that through frequent failures we may learn better what we have missed in the past.

You lethargic, waiting upon me, waiting for the fire and I attendant upon you, shaken by your beauty Shaken by your beauty Shaken.