Perhaps This Very Instant Is Your Time.

The Measured Blood Beats Out The Year's Delay.

I Don't Like Quintessential Certitude.

The Intellectual Is A Middle-class Product; If He Is Not Born Into The Class He Must Soon Insert Himself Into It, In Order To Exist. He Is The Fine Nervous Flower Of The Bourgeoisie.

Poetry Is Often Generations In Advance Of The Thought Of Its Time.

Innocence Of Heart And Violence Of Feeling Are Necessary In Any Kind Of Superior Achievement: The Arts Cannot Exist Without Them.