The only people I really hate are servants. They're not really human beings at all.

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand. Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

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

Father, I beg of Thee a little task To dignify my days, 'tis all I ask.

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

The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief or grief has drained me clean; Still it seems a pity No one saw,—it must have been Very pretty.

A grave is such a quiet place.