I Find Cambridge An Asylum, In Every

They Say My Verse Is Sad: No Wonder; Its Narrow Measure Spans Tears Of Eternity, And Sorrow, Not Mine. But Man's.

Three Minutes Thought Would Suffice To Find This Out; But Thought Is Irksome And Three Minutes Is A Long Time.

I Could No More Define Poetry Than A Terrier Can Define A Rat.

Life, To Be Sure, Is Nothing Much To Lose, But Young Men Think It Is, And We Were Young.

Even When Poetry Has A Meaning, As It Usually Has, It May Be Inadvisable To Draw It Out. Perfect Understanding Will Sometimes Almost Extinguish Pleasure.