And the betrayers of language. . . . . . n and the press gang And those who … - Ezra Pound

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For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground, and tell sad stories of the death of kings. . . All murdered; for within the hollow crown that rounds the mortal temples of a king, keeps Death his court. . . and with a little pin bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!

Ezra Pound

And the betrayers of language. . . . . . n and the press gang And those who had lied for hire; The perverts, the perverters of language, the perverts, who have set money-lust Before the pleasures of the senses; howling, as of a hen-yard in a printing-house, the clatter of presses, the blowing of dry dust and stray paper, foetor, sweat, the stench of stale oranges.

Dust, Language, Orange, Senses, Sweat

Same Author Quotes

A classic is classic not because it conforms to certain structural rules, or fits certain definitions It is classic because of a certain eternal and irrepressible freshness.

Classic, Conforms, Definitions, Fit, Fits, Freshness

I found after seventy years that I was not a lunatic but a moron. . . . I should have been able to do better.

Able, Found, Lunatic, Should Have, Years

I have always thought the suicide should bump off at least one swine before taking off for parts unknown.

Bumps, Parts, Suicidal, Suicide, Unknown

A man of genius has a right to any mode of expression.

Expression, Genius, Man, Men, Mode

It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse.

Apocalypse, Fear, Indications, Optimistic, Write, Writing