We Died Like Aunts Of Pets Or

I Simply Don't Want The Poems Mixed Up With My Life Or Opinions Or Picture Or Any Other Regrettable Concomitants. I Look Like A Bear And Live In A Cave; But You Should Worry.

The People Who Live In A Golden Age Usually Go Around Complaining How Yellow Everything Looks.

A Correct Answer Is Like An Affectionate Kiss, Goethe Said; A Correct Answer, Gertrude Would Have Said, Is Like A Slap In The Face.

If Wishes Were Stories, Beggars Would Read.

Most Poets, Most Good Poets Even, No Longer Have The Heart To Write About What Is Most Terrible In The World Of The Present: The Bombs Waiting Beside The Rockets, The Hundreds Of Millions Staring Into The Temporary Shelter Of Their Television Sets, The Decline Of The West That Seems Less A Decline Than The Fall Preceding An Explosion.