"How much must be forgotten, out of love,
how much must be forgiven, even love."
W.H. Auden, from: “Canzone” (via art-of-drowning)
W. H. Auden by Richard Avedon
So much for Art. Of course Life had its passions too;
The student’s flesh like his imagination
Makes facts fit theories and has fashions too.
We were the the tail, a sort of poor relation
To what that debauched, eccentric generation
That grew up with their fathers at the War,
And made new glosses on the noun Amour."