“Speak against unconscious oppression,Speak against the tyranny of the unimaginative,Speak against bonds.”

“The eyes of this dead lady speak to meFor here was love, was not to be drowned out.And here desire, not to be kissed away.The eyes of this dead lady speak to me.”

“The Garden En robe de parade. - SamainLike a skein of loose silk blown against a wallShe walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,And she is dying piece-mealof a sort of emotional anaemia. And round about there is a rabbleOf the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.They shall inherit the earth. In her is the end of breeding.Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.She would like some one to speak to her,And is almost afraid that I will commit that indiscretion.”

“Nothing written for pay is worth printing. Only what has been written against the market.”

“Poetry is a sort of inspired mathematics, which gives us equations, not for abstract figures, triangles, squares, and the like, but for the human emotions. If one has a mind which inclines to magic rather than science, one will prefer to speak of these equations as spells or incantations; it sounds more arcane, mysterious, recondite.”

“No one knows, at sight a masterpiece.And give up verse, my boy,There's nothing in it.Likewise a friend of Bloughram's once advised me:Don't kick against the pricks,Accept opinion. The Nineties tried your gameAnd died, there's nothing in it.”

“The serious artist must be as open as nature. Nature does not give all of herself in a paragraph. She is rugged and not set apart into discreet categories.”