He does not always remain bent over the pages; he often leans back and closes his eyes over a line he has been reading again, and its meaning spreads through his blood.

Love the questions, themselves.

Our task is to take this earth so deeply and wholly into ourselves that it will resurrect within our being.

For poems are not, as people think, simply emotions (one has emotions early enough)-they are experiences.

Nothing touches a work of art so little as words of criticism: they always result in more or less fortunate misunderstandings.

More belongs to marriage than four legs in a bed.

Draw near to Nature. Then try like some first human being to say what you see and experience and love and lose.