Everyone alters and is altered by everyone else. We are all the time taking in portions of one another or else reacting against them, and by these involuntary acquisitions and repulsions modifying our natures.

Do not believe those persons who say they have never been jealous. What they mean is that they have never been in love.

We should all live as if we were never going to die, for it is the deaths of our friends that hurt us, not our own.

We soon cease to feel the grief at the deaths of our friends, yet we continue to the end of our lives to miss them. They are still with us in their absence.

When I write a page that reads badly I know that it is myself who has written it. When it reads well it has come through from somewhere else.

One of the marks of a great poet is that he creates his own family of words and teaches them to live together in harmony and to help one another.

The cliche is dead poetry.