The philosophic mind inclines always to an elaborate life--the life of Goethe or of Leonardo da Vinci; but the life of the poet isintense--the life of Blake or of Dante--taking into its centre the life that surrounds it and flinging it abroad again amid planetary music.
Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas.
No one would think he'd make such a beautiful corpse.
God made food; the devil the cooks.
Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your hand.
There is no heresy or no philosophy which is so abhorrent to the church as a human being.