He does not write at all whose poems no man reads
Perhaps there are none more lazy, or more truly ignorant, than your everlasting readers.
Look deeply. Don't miss the inherent quality and value of everything.
Everything is here for a purpose, from horses to vine shoots. What's surprising about that? Even the sun will tell you, "I have a purpose," and the other goods as well.
Every instant of time... is a pinprick of eternity.
No longer talk at all about the kind of man that a good man ought to be, but be such