Poetry will absorb and transmute, as it always has done, and glorify, all that we can know.

Separate we come, and separate we go, And this be it known, is all that we know.

I'm not in the least Southern; I'm entirely New England.

I really don't know enough about the structure of fiction.

The one you love leans forward, smiles, deceives you, Opens a door through which you see dark dreams.

Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate; all that was once so beautiful is dead.

Poetry will absorb and transmute, as it always has done, and glorify, all that we can know.