I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy, The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride; Of Him who walked in glory and in joy Following his plough, along the mountain-side: By our own spirits are we deified: We Poets in our youth begin in gladness; But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.

Every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he is to be relished.

Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach Of ordinary men.

Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pas…

The poet is a god, or, the young poet is a god. The old poet is a tramp.

There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.

Sometimes it is hard to criticize, one wants only to chronicle. The good and mediocre books come in from week to week, and I put them aside and read them and t…