They fought the enemy, we fight fat living and self-pity. Shine, o shine, unfalsifying sun, on this sick scene.

[The] whirlwind fife-and-drum of the storm bends the salt marsh grass, disturbs stars in the sky and the star on the steeple; it is a privilege to see so much confusion.

A man is a writer if all his words are strung in definite sentence sounds.

The cynics in life are the people who are always trying to do things for people who don't want things done for them.

Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.

There never was a war that was not inward.

The power of the visible is the invisible.