Shoes twisted into incredible lilies.

It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.

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.

Outside, the north wind, coming and passing, swelling and dying, lifts the frozen sand drives it a-rattle against the lidless windows and we may dear sit stroking the cat stroking the cat and smiling sleepily, prrrr.

The descent beckons as the ascent beckoned

There is no comment on pictures but pictures, on music but music, on poems but poetry. If you do, you do. If you don't, you don't. And that's all there is to that.

A poem is a small machine made of words. . .Its movement is intrinsic, undulant, a physical more than a literary character.