Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that.

Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble What would have sunk to dust!

I am not at all in favor of hard work for its own sake; many people who work very hard indeed produce terrible things, and should most certainly not be encouraged.

It's not true that life is one damn thing after another; it is one damn thing over and over.

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.

She is happy where she lies With the dust upon her eyes.