Hart Crane

“One must be drenched in words, literally soaked in them, to have the right ones form themselves into the proper pattern at the right moment.”

“And so it was I entered the broken world / To trace the visionary company of love, its voice / An instant in the wind (I know not wither hurled) / But not for long to hold each desperate choice.”

“The sea raised up a campanile... The wind I heard, was made of iron.”

“Permit me voyage, love, into your hands...”

“And yet this great wink of eternity, of rimless floods, churning corridors of death and birth.”

“The imagination spans beyond despair.”

“New thresholds, new anatomies!”

“O Thou steeled Cognizance whose leap commits / The agile precincts of the lark’s return;”

“What I am trying to do is to stand the classic tradition on its head.”

“It is a world of correspondences.”

“A rip-tooth of the sky's acetylene...”

“Love, a burnt match skating in a urinal.”

“Let my lusts be my ruin, then, since all else is a fake and a mockery.”

“I have seen the future, and it is a repetition of the past.”

“The poet's function is to praise.”