That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.

Some men are more interesting than their books but my book is more interesting than its man.

Earth and high heaven are fixed of old and founded strong.

Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.

Experience has taught me, when I am shaving of a morning, to keep watch over my thoughts, because, if a line of poetry strays into my memory, my skin bristles so that the razor ceases to act.

I could no more define poetry than a terrier can define a rat.

Wanderers eastward, wanderers west, Know you why you cannot rest? 'Tis that every mother's son Travails with a skeleton. Lie down in the bed of dust; Bear the fruit that bear you must; Bring the eternal seed to light, And morn is all the same as night.