My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.

Ambition may be defined as the willingness to receive any number of hits on the nose.

All theological lore is becoming distasteful to me.

The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

All a poet can do today is warn.

Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.

No-man's land under snow is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater ridden, uninhabitable, awful, the abode of madness.

And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns.

I, too, saw God through mud - The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled. War brought more glory to their eyes than blood, And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.

All I ask is to be held above the barren wastes of want.

You make me wanna staple bagels to my face, then remove them with a pitchfork.

The universe may have a purpose, but nothing we know suggests that, if so, this purpose has any similarity to ours.

When I believed my thoughts I suffered.

Oh stay! oh stay! Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain To break its links so soon.

Your energy has far more power than you can even imagine. There is energy in your spoken words, in your emails, and in your physical presence.

And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you and admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But I have an aunt too, who must not be longer neglected.

Sometimes I've looked at a plate of food and wondered if it wouldn't look better as a hat.

Every book has got its challenges. You run into a plot point that you can't figure out, or a scene that you struggle to write and have to write 50 times.

Terrorism, War & Bankruptcy are caused by the privatization of money, issued as a debt and compounded by interest.

Hell is paved with priests' skulls.