“Every impeccable turn of every line is bought by shame, which can never be allowed to leech through the language it has hounded into being, lest it accidentally impersonate an alibi or a justification. That we can be here— on this planet, in this time, confined by these exact habits of survival— and still find things to call beautiful and to love or to be unable to stop loving is indefensible. But we are here, and we do. 'To Autumn' confesses it for us.”