But he sleeps on the top of his mast with his eyes closed tight. The gull inquired into his dream, which was, "I must not fall. The spangled sea below wants me to fall. It is hard as diamonds; it wants to destroy us all.

Something needn't be large to be good.

And as to experience-well, think how little some good poets have had, or how much some bad ones have.

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

Think of the long trip home. Should we have stayed home and thought of here? Where should we be today?

I am overcome by my own amazing sloth...Can you please forgive me and believe that it is really because I want to do something well that I don't do it at all?

Oh, must we dream our dreams and have them, too?