“Is stuffed, de world, wif feeding girls.”

“Huffy Henry hid the day, unappeasable Henry sulked. I see his point,--a trying to put things over. It was the thought that they thought they could do it made Henry wicked & away. But he should have come out and talked. All the world like a woolen lover once did seem on Henry's side. Then came a departure. Thereafter nothing fell out as it might or ought. I don't see how Henry, pried open for all the world to see, survived. What he has now to say is a long wonder the world can bear & be. Once in a sycamore I was glad all at the top, and I sang. Hard on the land wears the strong sea and empty grows every bed.”

“…Henry is tired of winter,& haircuts, & a squeamish comfy ruin-prone proud national mind, & Spring (in the city so called)Henry likes Fall.Hé would be prepared to líve in a world of Fállfor ever, impenitent Henry.But the snows and summers grieve and dream;These fierce & airy occupations, and love,raved away so many of Henry’s yearsit is a wonder that, with in each handone of his own mad books and all,ancient fires for eyes, his head full& his heart full, he's making ready to move on.”

“I am so wise I had my mouth sewn shut.”

“The splendour & the lose grew all the same, Sire.”

“Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,we ourselves flash and yearn”

“You should always be trying to write a poem you are unable to write, a poem you lack the technique, the language, the courage to achieve. Otherwise you're merely imitating yourself, going nowhere, because that's always easiest.”