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.

Icebergs behoove the soul (both being self-made from elements least visible) to see themselves: fleshed, fair, erected, indivisible.

Something needn't be large to be good.

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'.

Open the book. (The gilt rubs off the edges of the pages and pollinates the fingertips.)

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

Democracy in the contemporary world demands, among other things, an educated and informed people.