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A cold coming we had of it, / Just the worst time of the year / For a journey. |
Uncategorized |
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A difference of taste in jokes is a great strain on the affections. |
Affection; Jokes |
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A good half of the effort of understanding what the Indian philosophers were after - and their subtleties make most of the great European philosophers look like schoolboys. |
Philosophy |
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A play should give you something to think about. When I see a play and understand it the first time, then I know it can't be much good. |
Play |
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A tradition without intelligence is not worth having. |
Uncategorized |
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A woman drew her long black hair out tight / And fiddled whisper music on those strings / And bats with baby faces in the violet light / Whistled. |
Uncategorized |
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After such knowledge, what forgiveness? Think now / History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors / And issues. |
Uncategorized |
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After the erection of the Chinese Wall of Milton, blank verse has suffered not only arrest but retrogression. |
Uncategorized |
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An editor should tell the author his writing is better than it is. Not a lot better, a little better. |
Uncategorized |
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An election is coming. Universal peace is declared and the foxes have a sincere interest in prolonging the lives of the poultry. |
Uncategorized |
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And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, / And in short, I was afraid. |
Uncategorized |
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And I will show you something different from either your shadow at morning striding behind you or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust. |
Uncategorized |
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And indeed there will be time/ To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"/ Time to turn back and descend the stair,/ With a bald spot in the middle of my hair. . ./ Do I dare/ Disturb the universe? |
Uncategorized |
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And to make an end is to make a beginning. |
Life |
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Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity |
Anxiety |
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Any poet, if he is to survive beyond his 25th year, must alter; he must seek new literary influences; he will have different emotions to express. |
Poets |
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April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain. |
Uncategorized |
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