A bad poem is one that vanishes into meaning.

History justifies whatever we want it to. It teaches absolutely nothing, for it contains everything and gives examples of everything.

One should be light like a bird, and not like a feather.

The folly of mistaking oneself for an oracle is built right into us.

Oh, hasten not this loving act, Rapture where self and not-self meet: My life has been the awaiting you, Your footfall was my own heart's beat.

Conscience reigns but it does not govern.

The only treaties that ought to count are those which would effect a settlement between ulterior motives.