We turn not older with years but newer every day.

Enough is so vast a sweetness I suppose it never occurs.

Love is like life-merely longer.

PHOSPHORESCENCE. Now there's a word to lift your hat to... to find that phosphorescence, that light within, that's the genius behind poetry.

I tasted life.

Life is so rotatory that the wilderness falls to each, sometime.

We do not play on Graves— Because there isn't Room— Besides—it isn't even—it slants And People come— And put a Flower on it— And hang their faces so— We're fearing that their Hearts will drop— And crush our pretty play— And so we move as far As Enemies—away— Just looking round to see how far It is—Occasionally—