Quotes from Louis Zukofsky

Infinite is a meaningless word: except – it states / The mind is capable of performing / an endless process of addition.

Infinite is a meaningless word: except – it states / The mind is capable of performing / an endless process of addition.

It was a pity that people did not risk enough to speak out in behalf of one another's happiness and their own.

The more the words of others impressed him with their factual content, the more he felt he must wait for his own facts before being tempted into words.

This story was a story of our time. And a writer's attempts not to fathom his time amount but to sounding his mind in it.

A Round of fiddles playing Bach.

River that must turn full after I stop dying Song, my song, raise grief to music Light as my loves' thought, the few sick So sick of wrangling: thus weeping, Sounds of light, stay in her keeping And my son's face - this much for honor.

May is, Airs wreathe (times) : and they mirror: plus Silence supports my pretension . . the parts Ascend a tone, repeating, (tin ears) thus (Listen) move past Jesus ratted in starch; My contention . . that the slight disregards My costs: Recorders: Fa - as what wind blew Tossed coins in herrings heads, what journey thru Mi et Mi Fa . . tota Musica, dearth Such as voice courting voice has such value Labor light lights in air, in earth, on earth