There Is Only One Real Deprivation... And

Nobody Stays Special When They're Old, Anna. That's What We Have To Learn.

For Poetry Is, I Believe, Always An Act Of The Spirit. The Poem Teaches Us Something While We Make It. The Poem Makes You As You Make The Poem, And Your Making Of The Poem Requires All Your Capacities Of Thought, Feeling, Analysis, And Synthesis.

It Is The Privilege Of Those Who Fear Love To Murder Those Who Do Not Fear It!

Where Music Thundered Let The Mind Be Still, Where The Will Triumphed Let There Be No Will, What Light Revealed, Now Let The Dark Fulfill.

Light Is Snow Sifted / To An Abstraction.