We All Are Born Mad. Some Remain

As It Is With The Love Of The Body, So With The Friendship Of The Mind, The Full Is Only Reached By Admittance To The Most Retired Places.

To Find A Form That Accommodates The Mess, That Is The Task Of The Artist Now.

With All This Darkness Round Me I Feel Less Alone.

I've Tried Not To Exaggerate The Glory Of Athletes. I'd Rather, If I Could, Preserve A Sense Of Proportion, To Write About Them Asexcellent Ballplayers, First-rate Players. But I'm Sure I Have Contributed To False Values--as Stanley Woodward Said, "godding Up Those Ballplayers." The Sun Shone, Having No Alternative, On The Nothing New.

The Only Sin Is The Sin Of Being Born.