I, who thought to sink, was caught up into love, and taught the whole of life in a new rhythm.

In this abundant earth no doubt Is little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough We once were lov'd, us'd -- well enough, I think, we've far'd, my heart and I.

My love for him was so exquisitely pure that if we all were capable of giving and receiving such a beautiful gift the world would be a far more brilliant place; I think we'd all be poets.

The devil's most devilish when respectable.

Like to write? Of course, of course I do. I seem to live while I write - it is life, for me.

My sun sets to raise again.

With what cracked pitchers go we to deep wells In this world!