“I have a real aversion to machines. I write with a pen. Then I read it to someone who writes it onto the computer. What are those computer letters made of anyway? Light? Too insubstantial. Paper, you can feel it. A pen. There's a connection. A pen goes exactly at your speed, whereas that machine jumps. And then, that machine is waiting for you, just humming "uh-huh, yes?” FeelsWritingMadeRealLightWaitingPaperComputerLettersConnectionsMachinesSpeedPensAversionWaiting For YouHumming Author:Fran Lebowitz
“In railway halls, on pavements near the traffic, They beg, their eyes made big by empty staring And only measuring Time , like the blank clock. No, I shall weave no tracery of pen-ornament To make them birds upon my singing tree: Time merely drives these lives which do not live As tides push rotten stuff along the shore.” MadeBigsEyeStuffTreeSingingBirdEmptyClockStaringHallsPensShoreTidesBlankTrafficRottenOrnamentsMeasuringPavementRailway Book:New Collected Poems of Stephen Spender Source: New Collected Poems of Stephen Spender