For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

And none will hear the postman’s knock
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

When I am in the company of scientists, I feel like a shabby curate who has strayed by mistake into a drawing room full of dukes.

What the mass media offers is not popular art, but entertainment which is intended to be consumed like food, forgotten, and replaced by a new dish.

I sit in one of the dives On Fifty-Second Street Uncertain and afraid As the clever hopes expire Of a low dishonest decade: Waves of anger and fear Circulate over the bright And darkened lands of the earth, Obsessing our private lives; The unmentiona

Murder is commoner among cooks than among members of any other profession