I would rather feel the hurt inside, yes I would darling, than know the emptiness that your heart must hide.
The English say, Yours Truly, and mean it. The Italians say, I kiss your feet, and mean, I kick your head.
I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity. Yet these elegies are to this generation in no sense conciliatory. They may be to the next. All a poet can do today is warn. That is why the true Poets must be truthful.
Ambition may be defined as the willingness to receive any number of hits on the nose.
The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.
I own a home in Sweden, I rent in both Los Angeles and in Britain, and I'm constantly travelling.
I remain just one thing, and one thing only, and that is a clown. It places me on a far higher plane than any politician.
How tedious is time, when his wings are loaded with expectation!
I like strongvulnerable interesting women, and then sometimes I like painting beautiful men, like Kurt Cobain, or Mr Darcy.