Law makes long spokes of the short stakes of men.
The heart of standing is that you cannot fly.
Poetry contains nothing haphazard.
It seems unpleasantly refined to put things off till someone knows.
Proust has listed a great many reasons why it is impossible to be happy, but, in the course of being happy, one finds it difficult to remember them.
Poets, on the face of it, have either got to be easier or to write their own notes; readers have either got to take more trouble over reading or cease to regard notes as pretentious and a sign of bad poetry