The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet black bough. — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
“And Unto thine eyes my heart Sendeth old dreams of the spring-time, Yea of wood-ways my rime Found thee and flowers in and of all streams That sang low burthen, and of roses, That lost their dew-bowed petals for the… — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
“I once saw a small child go to an electric light switch as say, "Mamma, can I open the light?" She was using the… — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
“Till now they send him dreams and no more deed; So doth he flame again with might for action, Forgetful of the council of… — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
A great age of literature is perhaps always a great age of translations. — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
It would be about as easy for an American to become a Chinaman or a Hindoo as for him to acquire an Englishness or… — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
Anyone who is too lazy to master the comparatively small glossary necessary to understand Chaucer deserves to be shut out from the reading of… — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
Mass ought to be in Latin, unless you could do it in Greek or Chinese. In fact, any abracadabra that no bloody member of… — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
The artist is always beginning. Any work of art which is not a beginning, an invention, a discovery is of little worth. — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
“Any general statement is like a cheque drawn on a bank. Its value depends on what is there to meet it.” — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
The author's conviction on this day of New Year is that music begins to atrophy when it departs too far from the dance; that… — Ezra Pound Copy Share Image
