“The mason stirs. Words! Pens are too light. Take a chisel to write.” — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
The times are squalid. They always were. It is a poet's duty to hold the line. — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
But their determination to banish fools foundered ultimately in the installation of absolute idiots. — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
All you can usually say about a poem or a picture is, 'Look at it, listen to it.' Whether you listen to a piece… — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
“It tastes good, garlic and salt in it, with the half-sweet white wine of Orvieto on scanty grass under great trees where the ramparts cuddle Lucca. It sounds right, spoken on the ridge between marine olives and hillside blue figs, under the breeze fresh with pollen of Apennine sage. It feels soft, weed thick in the cave and the smooth… — Basil Bunting Copy Share
Praise the green earth. Chance has appointed her home, workshop, larder, middenpit. Her lousy skin scabbed here and there by cities provides us with… — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
The mystic purchases a moment of exhilaration with a lifetime of confusion; and the confusion is infectious and destructive. It is confusing and destructive… — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
To appreciate present conditions, collate them with those of antiquity. — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
Whether you listen to a piece of music, or a poem, or look at a picture or a jug, or a piece of sculpture,… — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
Compose aloud: poetry is a sound. Never explain- your reader is as smart as you. Your reader is not just any reader, but is… — Basil Bunting Copy Share Image
