Hope is a dream deferred.

I'm accused of cleverness as if it were a sin. She is merely clever, they say.

Writing poetry is like always being in love. What masochism! What luxury!

writers who go outside the lines when they draw pictures of the world are seldom rewarded for their efforts.

... romance is unsatisfactory as a religion. It is no use looking for the infinite in the eyes of another.

In an age in which greed and lust stalk the land like some Biblical plague, it is easy to view sex as just one more thing to be had. It is the mythos of moderns.

Misogyny is the death of the heart.