This is no book. Whoever touches this touches a man.
What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage
The artist is always beginning. Any work of art which is not a beginning, an invention, a discovery is of little worth.
I think an alliance with Stalin's Russia is rotten.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet black bough.
As a bathtub lined with white porcelain, When the hot water gives out or goes tepid, So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion, O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.