They would not find me changed from him they knew - only more sure of all I thought was true.

The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader.

I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover's quarrel with the world.

All thought is a feat of association; having what's in front of you bring up something in your mind that you almost didn't know you knew.

I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew. Writing a poem is discovering.

The only way round is through.