Artistic inevitability lies in the complete adequacy of the external to the emotion.
It is worth while dying, to find out what life is.
Knowledge is invariably a matter of degree: you cannot put your finger upon even the simplest datum and say this we know.
All significant truths are private truths. As they become public they cease to become truths; they become facts, or at best, part of the public character; or at worst, catchwords.
We can say of Shakespeare, that never has a man turned so little knowledge to such great account.
You have learned enough to see that cats are much like you and me.
Any religion is forever in danger of petrifaction into mere ritual and habit, though ritual and habit be essential to religion.
Playwriting gets into your blood and you can't stop it. At least not until the producers or the public tell you to.
And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you I will show you fear in a handful of dust
Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimney-pots, And at the corner of the street A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps.
There is no such thing as a lost cause, because there is no such thing as a gained cause
The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different from that from which it was torn; the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion.
I love reading another reader’s list of favorites. Even when I find I do not share their tastes or predilections, I am provoked to compare, contrast, and contradict. It is a most healthy exercise, and one altogether fruitful.
Stand on the highest pavement of the stair- Lean on a garden urn- Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair.
For I have known them all already, known them all— Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
No generation is interested in art in quite the same way as any other; each generation, like each individual, brings to the contemplation of art its own categories of appreciation, makes its own demands upon art, and has its own uses for art.
When a great poet has lived, certain things have been done once for all, and cannot be achieved again.
If one has to earn a living, therefore, the safest occupation is that most remote from the arts.
My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me. 'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak. 'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? 'I never know what you are thinking. Think.
The great ages did not contain the best talent, they wasted less.
Writing every day is a way of keeping the engine running, and then something good may come out of it.
Someone said, 'The dead writers are remote from us because we know so much more than they did.' Precisely, and they are that which we know.
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning, every poem an epitaph.
We fight to keep something alive rather than in the expectation that anything will triumph.
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