The distant soul can shake the distant friend's soul and make the longing felt, over untold miles.

In the dark room where I began My mother's life made me a man. Through all the months of human birth Her beauty fed my common earth. I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir, But through the death of some of her.

Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth

It ought to have gangsters, and aeroplanes and a lot of automatic pistols.

I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.

Once in a century a man may be ruined or made insufferable by praise. But surely once in a minute something generous dies for want of it.

Humans consist of body, mind and imagination. Our bodies are faulty, our minds untrustworthy, but our imagination has made us remarkable.