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

Rhythm must have meaning.

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.

It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse.

I once saw a small child go to an electric light switch as say, "Mamma, can I open the light?" She was using the age-old language of exploration, the language of art. It was a sort of metaphor, but she was not using it as ornamentation.

Why do you look so eagerly and so curiously into people’s faces, / Will you find your lost dead among them?

In verse one can take any damn constant one likes, one can alliterate, or assone, or rhyme, or quant, or smack, only one MUST leave the other elements irregular.

To break the pentameter, that was the first heave