Writingis an art; and artistsare human beings. As a human being stands, so a human being is

things which in my mind blossom will stumble beneath a clumsiest disguise appear capable of fragility and indecision

To like an individual because he's black is just as insulting as to dislike him because he isn't white.

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

Let must or if be damned with whomever's afraid down with ought with because with every brain which thinks it thinks, nor dares to feel.

And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands