No composer has yet caught this rhythm of America - it is too mighty for the ears of most.
In some ways, you know, people that don't exist, are much nicer than people that do.
It's too late to correct it: when you've once said a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences.
May we not then sometimes define insanity as an inability to distinguish which is the waking and which the sleeping life? We often dream without the least suspicion of unreality: 'Sleep hath its own world', and it is often as lifelike as the other.
I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is - oh dear! I shall never get to twenty at that rate!
I cannot even pretend to feel as much interest in boys as in girls.
"I could have done it in a much more complicated way," said the Red Queen, immensely proud.
Each day is an occasion to reinvent ourselves
I'm the most low-maintenance person on the road.
When modernist poetry, or what not so long ago passed for modernist poetry, can reach the stage where the following piece by Mr. Ezra Pound is seriously offered as a poem, there is some justification for the plain reader and orthodox critic who shrinks from anything that may be labelled 'modernist' either in terms of condemnation or approbation. . . . Better he thinks, that ten authentic poets should be left for posterity to discover than one charlatan should be allowed to steal into the Temple of Fame.
There is nothing that art cannot express.