Men expect too much, do too little..

I had kept opaque Down deeper than the canyons undersea The sullen spectrum of a buried lake Nobody saw; not seen even by me..

But we shall not know the world by looking at it; we know it by looking at the hovering fly..

Poets, in their way, are practical men; they are interested in results..

The only real evidence that any critic may bring before his gaze is the finished poem..

The twilight is long fingers and black hair..

So face with calm that heritage And earn contempt before the age..

In a manner of speaking, the poem is its own knower, neither poet nor reader knowing anything that the poem says apart from the words of the poem..

The mission for the day is to encourage students to think beyond traditional career opportunities, prepare for future careers and entrance into the w….

Men cannot live forever But they must die forever..

We are afraid that we have not lived. We are not afraid of dying..

So the poet, who wants to be something that he cannot be, and is a failure in plain life, makes up fictitious versions of his predicament that are in….

Poets are mysterious, but a poet when all is said is not much more mysterious than a banker..

How does one happen to write a poem: where does it come from? That is the question asked by the psychologists or the geneticists of poetry..

Serious poetry deals with the fundamental conflicts that cannot be logically resolved: we can state the conflicts rationally, but reason does not rel….

Culture is the study of perfection, and the constant effort to achieve it..

What is the poem, after it is written? That is the question. Not where it came from or why..

Experience means conflict, our natures being what they are, and conflict means drama..

At twelve I was determined to shoot only For honor; at twenty not to shoot at all; I know at thirty-three that one must shoot As often as one gets th….

Men expect too much, do too little, Put the contraption before the accomplishment, Lack skill of the interior mind To fashion dignity with shapes of ….

I have felt darkness lead me by the hand Over the hill to greet the singing dawn..