If the facts are against you, argue the law. If the law is against you, argue the facts. If the law and the facts are against you, pound the table and yell like hell.
Why does a hearse horse snicker, hauling a lawyer away?
The squeaky wheel gets the grease but the quacking duck gets shot.
And those who say, “I’ll try anything once,” often try nothing twice, three times, arriving late at the gate of dreams worth dying for.
Poetry is a mock of a cry at finding a million dollars and a mock of a laugh at losing it.
Enough small empty boxes thrown into a big empty box fill it full.
A baby is God’s opinion that life should go on.
I can remember only a few of the strange and curious words now dead but living and spoken by the English people a thousand years ago.
I had been keeping an off eye on the advertising field, thinking I might become an idea man and a copywriter.
I have become infected, now that I see how beautifully a book is coming out of all this.
I knew I would read all kinds of books and try to get at what it is that makes good writers good. But I made no promises that I would write books a lot of people would like to read.
I took to wearing a black tie known as the Ascot, with long drooping ends. I had seen pictures of painters, sculptors, poets, wearing this style of tie.
Give me hunger, pain and want, Shut me out with shame and failure From your doors of gold and fame, Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger! But leave me a little love.
The scholars and poets of an earlier time can be read only with a dictionary to help.
The drum in a dream pounds loud to the dreamer.
There is an eagle in me that wants to soar...
Hope is an echo, hope ties itself yonder, yonder.
Poetry is a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations.
And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers. Go running back to dust and mist.
Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it until the test comes.