I see no reason for calling my work poetry except that there is no other category in which to put it.

Omissions are not accidents.

There never was a war that was not inward; I must fight till I have conquered in myself what causes war.

Any writer overwhelmingly honest about pleasing himself is almost sure to please others.

Your thorns are the best part of you.

If we can't be cordial to these creatures' fleece, I think that we deserve to freeze.

I, too, dislike it. Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers in it, after all, a place for the genuine.