A new music is a new mind.

It is almost impossible to state what one in fact believes, because it is almost impossible to hold a belief and to define it at the same time.

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.

O frost bitten blossoms, That are unfolding your wings From out the envious black branches. Bloom quickly and make much of the sunshine. The twigs conspire against you! Hear hem! They hold you from behind.

A poem is a small machine made out of words.

Everyone in this life is defeated but a man, if he be a man, is not defeated.

Love is unworldly and nothing comes of it but love.