Whatever's merely willful, and not miraculous (be never it so skilful) must wither fail and cease - but better than to grow beauty knows no.

The artist is not a man who describes, but a man who feels.

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses

hate blows a bubble of despair into hugeness world system universe and bang -fear buries a tomorrow under woe and up comes yesterday most green and young

O sweet spontaneous earth how often has the naughty thumb of science prodded thy beauty thou answereth them only with spring.

The Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls are unbeautiful and have comfortable minds.

Your homecoming will be my homecoming