All Recurring Joy Is Pain Refined.

Rapture's Self Is Three Parts Sorrow.

Time! Joyless Emblem Of The Greed Of Millions, Robber Of The Best Which Earth Can Give.

A Man Must Be Sacrificed Now And Again To Provide For The Next Generation Of Men.

Art Is Like Politics. Any Theory Carried Too Far Ends In Sterility, And Freshness Is Only Gained By Following Some Other Line.

Only Those Of Our Poets Who Kept Solidly To The Shakespearean Tradition Achieved Any Measure Of Success. But Keats Was The Last Great Exponent Of That Tradition, And We All Know How Thin, How Lacking In Charm, The Copies Of Keats Have Become.