It is like what we imagine knowledge to be: dark, salt, clear, moving, utterly free.

Someone loves us all.

All my life I have lived and behaved very much like the sandpiper - just running down the edges of different countries and continents, 'looking for something'.

What one seems to want in art, in experiencing it, is the same thing that is necessary for its creation, a self-forgetful, perfectly useless concentration.

Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Hoping to live days of greater happiness, I forget that days of less happiness are passing by.

What the Man-Moth fears most he must do.