We touch heaven when we lay our hand on a human body!
Where are we really going? Always home.
The true Poet is all-knowing; he is an actual world in miniature.
Many books are longer than they seem. They have indeed no end. The boredom that they cause is truly absolute and infinite.
Many things are too delicate to be thought; many more, to be spoken.
Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason.