"If youth is a defect, it is one we outgrow too soon."
"September twenty-second, Sir, the bough cracks with unpicked apples, and at dawn the small-mouth bass breaks water, gorged with spawn."
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Source: Robert Lowell (1955). “Poesie: 1943-1952”
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"In the end, there is no end."
"We feel the machine slipping from our hands As if someone else were steering; If we see light at the end of the tunnel, It's the light of the oncoming train."
"The world is absolutely out of control now and is not going to be saved by any reason or unreason."
"Poetry is not the record of an event: it is an event."
"Their monument sticks like a fishbone in the city's throat."