Good poets borrow, great poets steal
We learn what poetry is - if we ever learn - by reading it.
But it seems that something has happened that has never happened before: though we know not just when, or why, or how, or where.
If you start with a bang, you won't end with a whimper.
Words strain, Crack and sometimes break, under the burden, Under the tension, slip, slide, perish, Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place, Will not stay still.
Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable.
If you will not have God (and He is a jealous God), you should pay your respects to Hitler or Stalin.
But the Church cannot be, in any political sense, either conservative or liberal, or revolutionary. Conservatism is too often conservation of the wrong things: liberalism a relaxation of discipline; revolution a denial of the permanent things.
We do not pass twice through the same door Or return to the door through which we did not pass.
I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Teach us to care and not to care
To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not / You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.
The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason.
It is in fact a part of the function of education to help us escape, not from our own time - for we are bound by that - but from the intellectual and emotional limitations of our time.
For last year's words belong to last year's language And next year's words await another voice.
What profession is more trying than that of author? After you finish a piece of work it only seems good to you for a few weeks; or if it seems good at all you are convinced that it is the last you will be able to write; and if it seems bad you wonder whether everything you have done isn’t poor stuff really; and it is one kind of agony while you are writing, and another kind when you aren’t.
War is not a life: it is a situation, one which may neither be ignored nor accepted.
No place of grace for those who avoid the Face. No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the Voice.
In the last few years everything I'd done up to sixty or so has seemed very childish.
Probably, indeed, the larger part of the labor of an author composing his work is critical labor; the labor of sifting, combining, constructing, expunging, correcting, testing. This frightful toil is as much critical as creative.
Light Light The visible reminder of Invisible Light.
Love is most nearly itself When here and now cease to matter. Old men ought to be explorers Here or there does not matter We must be still and still moving Into another intensity For a further union, a deeper communion Through the dark cold and the empty desolation, The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters Of the petrel and the porpoise.
The destination cannot be described; / You will know very little until you get there; / You will journey blind.
Every moment is a new and shocking transvaluation of all we have ever been.
Accident is design / And design is accident / In a cloud of unknowing.
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