The Naming Of Cats Is

Yeats Was The Greatest Poet Of Our Times . . . Certainly The Greatest In This Language, And So Far As I Am Able To Judge, In Any Language.

The Progress Of An Artist Is A Continual Self-sacrifice, A Continual Extinction Of Personality.

For Most Of Us, There Is Only The Unattended Moment, The Moment In And Out Of Time, The Distraction Fit, Lost In A Shaft Of Sunlight, The Wild Thyme Unseen, Or The Winter Lightning Or The Waterfall, Or Music Heard So Deeply That It Is Not Heard At All, But You Are The Music While The Music Lasts

Thinking Of The Key, Each Confirms A Prison.

My Greatest Trouble Is Getting The Curtain Up And Down.