Our doom is, to be sifted by the wind, heaped up, smoothed down like silly sands. We are less permanent than thought.
1925 Villon, pt.1.
Name and date split in soft slate a few months obliterate. 166Basil Bunting
It looks well enough on the page, but never well enough.Basil Bunting
Who swinging his axe to fell kings, guesses where we go?Basil Bunting
All you can usually say about a poem or a picture is, 'Look at it, listen to it.' Whether you listen to a piece of music or a poem, or look at a picture or a jug or a piece of sculpture, what matters about it is not what it has in common with others of its kind, but what is singularly its own."Basil Bunting
Compose aloud: poetry is a sound. Never explain- your reader is as smart as you. Your reader is not just any reader, but is the rare one with ears in his head.Basil Bunting