I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.

“April is the cruellest month, breedingLilacs out of the dead land, mixingMemory…”

“The emotion of art is impersonal. And the poet cannot reach this impersonality …”

“If the reader says the state of affairs which I wish to bring about is right, o…”

“Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without …”