Not Truth, but Faith it is that keeps the world alive.

No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.

Progress-progress is the dirtiest word in the language-who ever told us- And made us believe it-that to take a step forward was necessarily, was always A good idea?

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.

We were so wholly one I had not thought That we could die apart. I had not thought That I could move,—and you be stiff and still! That I could speak,—and you perforce be dumb! I think our heart-strings were, like warp and woof In some firm fabric, woven in and out; Your golden filaments in fair design Across my duller fibre.

After all my erstwhile dear, my no longer cherished; Need we say it was not love, just because it perished?

I love humanity but I hate people.