Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea Past the houses, past the headlands Into deep eternity! Bred as we, among the mountains Can the sailor understand The divine intoxication Of the first league out from land?
The older I grow the more do I love spring and spring flowers. Is it so with you?
Beauty is just a light switch away...'click!' Beauty is not caused. It is.
Those who lift their hats shall see Nature as devout do God.
Wonder is not precisely knowing.
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?