A word is just a pen mark, a babble of sound
If there is to be an English poesy worthy the name then it must be formed of true sounds, the throat all open, and not of mumblings in chambers or the impostures of the eye. It is the ear that is poesy's true organ
To have ready a pen is something, but it is less than to have land
I sit in mine own lodgings feeling truly in a wretched dim hell of mine own making, spent, used, shameless, shameful
I will not make my pen servant to reason
Can you not forsee what you will feel when you are truly grown up? You will understand the disappointments then. You will see where metaphors go wrong, that the door is most tight shut when it seems most open, that we are condemned to dying more than to death. Let me tell you the manner of our dying away from each other, which is not yet death
With awe and something of fear, John felt as if he were being instructed by the dead in person, souls of poets dead and gone. Doors were being opened. Welcome to long life and further revelations
The confessional is ever open for the discharge of the shameful ordures of humanity
Dying is as expensive as living
The immense air opens and closes my book. The wave, pulverized, dares to gush and spatter from the rocks. Fly away, dazzled, blinded pages. Break, waves. Break with joyful waters ...
Remember that life is not a right but a gift. And now the gift is removed. Be thankful that you have savoured that gift. March into the dark with erect hands, eyes open
Writers of fiction often have difficulty in deciding between what really happened and what they imagine as having happened .. we lie for a living
I was not writing, though I had been told solemnly that my job was writing, wear down one whole pencil to the butt every day
I did not object to the opening up of the junk shop of my brain when that brain had ceased to be mine and had become merely part of the economy of the soil
I had never yet had a bad dream when sleeping in Rome, perhaps because all the badness of life there was reserved to the waking time. Here was the sewer of history, and it was an open sewer
Adam was but human-- this explains it all. He did not want the apple for the apple's sake, he wanted it only because it was forbidden. The mistake was in not forbidding the serpent; then he would have eaten the serpent.
Was never true love loved in vain, For truest love is highest gain. No art can make it: it must spring Where elements are fostering. So in heaven's spot and hour Springs the little native flower, Downward root and upward eye, Shapen by the earth and sky.
The happiness of your life depends on the quality of your
Minds are like parachutes - they function only when open.
Egotism: Doing a crossword puzzle with a pen.
The graveyards are full of indispensable men.
Education's purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one.
To be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness.
Too many people spend money they haven't earned, to buy things they don't want, to impress people they don't like.
You can't depend on your judgment when your imagination is out of focus.