So far as I am concerned, poetry and every other art was, is, and forever will be strictly and distinctly a question of individuality.

a poet is someone who is abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement. Which is to say the highest form of concentration possible: fascination; to report on the electrifying experience of being

Treat a man like dirt-he produces flowers.

i shall imagine life is not worth dying,if (and when)roses complain their beauties are in vain but though mankind persuades itself that every weed's a rose,roses(you feel certain)will only smile

And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air.

You shall above all things be glad and young.

Must's a schoolroom in the month of may