Some thirty inches from my nose. The frontier of my Person goes, And all the untilled air between. Is private pagus or demesne. Stranger, unless with bedroom eyes. I beckon you to fraternize, Beware of rudely crossing it: I have no gun, but I can spit.
W. H. AudenAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: February 21, 1907
- Died: September 29, 1973
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Oh, my dear fellow, if you want to be a gentleman you must give up being an artist. They’ve got nothing to do with one another. You hear of men painting pot-boilers to keep an aged mother – well, it shows they’re excellent sons, but it’s no excuse for bad work. They’re only tradesmen. An artist would let his mother go to the workhouse.
W. Somerset Maugham