At twelve I was determined to shoot only For honor; at twenty not to shoot at all; I know at thirty-three that one must shoot As often as one gets the rare chance – In killing there is more than commentary.

For intellect is a mansion where waste is without drain...

Death’s long anabasis.

The innocent mansion of a panther’s heart!

There is probably nothing wrong with art for art’s sake if we take the phrase seriously, and not take it to mean the kind of poetry written in England forty years ago.

Men expect too much, do too little.

Poets are mysterious, but a poet when all is said is not much more mysterious than a banker.

The innocent mansion of a panther's heart!

POET If not in a place, where are the People weeping? LIBERAL They creep weeping in the face, not place. POET Is it something with which we may cope The weeping, the creeping, the peepee-ing, the peeping?

All the sea-gods are dead. You, Venus, come home To your salt maidenhead....