When Comparing Works Of Art, It Is

The Destination Cannot Be Described; / You Will Know Very Little Until You Get There; / You Will Journey Blind.

Every Phrase And Every Sentence Is An End And A Beginning, Every Poem An Epitaph.

April Is The Cruelest Month, Breeding Lilacs Out Of The Dead Land, Mixing Memory And Desire, Stirring Dull Roots With Spring Rain.

Distracted From Distraction By Distraction

It Has Frequently Been Said That We Never Desire What We Think Absolutely Inapprehensible: It Is However True That Some Of Our Sharpest Agonies Are Those In Which The Object Of Desire Is Regarded As Both Possible And Imaginary.