The intellectuals' chief cause of anguish are one another's works. Jacques Barzun, 1959 all ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.

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

Time cannot children,poets,lovers tell- measure imagine,mystery,a kiss -not though mankind would rather know than feel

Humanity i love you because you are perpetually putting the secret of life in your pants and forgetting it's there and sitting down on it and because you are forever making poems in the lap of death Humanity i hate you

Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.

may came home with a smooth round stone as small as a world and as large as alone.

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands -excerpt of #35 from "100 Selected Poems