Waste not a day in vain digression; with resolute, courageous trust seek every possible impression and make it firmly your posession you'll then work on because you must.

Nature has neither core nor skin: she’s both at once outside and in.

Error is to truth as sleep is to waking. I have observed that one turns, as if refreshed, from error back to truth.

After all, poets shouldn't be their own interpreters and shouldn't carefully dissect their poems into everyday prose; that would mean the end of being poets. Poets send their creations into the world, it is up to the reader, the aesthetician, and the critic to determine what they wanted to say with their creations.

The artist who is not also a craftsman is no good; but, alas, most of our artists are nothing else.

The day is committed to error and floundering; success and achievement are matters of long range.

Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.