The debts we owe ourselves are the hardest to pay.
A human act once set in motion flows on forever to the great account. Our deathlessness is in what we do, not in what we are.
The most dire disaster in love is the death of imagination.
The future not being born, my friend, we will abstain from baptizing it.
As we to the brutes, poets are to us.
Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And the great price we paid for it full worth: We have it only when we are half earth. Little avails that coinage to the old!