Shoulder The Sky, My Lad, And Drink

They Say My Verse Is Sad: No Wonder; Its Narrow Measure Spans Tears Of Eternity, And Sorrow, Not Mine. But Man's.

I Could No More Define Poetry Than A Terrier Can Define A Rat.

I Do Not Choose The Right Word, I Get Rid Of The Wrong One.

To Be A Textual Critic Requires Aptitude For Thinking And Willingness To Think; And Though It Also Requires Other Things, Those Things Are Supplements And Cannot Be Substitutes. Knowledge Is Good, Method Is Good, But One Thing Beyond All Others Is Necessary; And That Is To Have A Head, Not A Pumpkin, On Your Shoulders And Brains, Not Pudding, In Your Head.

Even When Poetry Has A Meaning, As It Usually Has, It May Be Inadvisable To Draw It Out. Perfect Understanding Will Sometimes Almost Extinguish Pleasure.