Out of your whole life give but a moment! All of your life that has gone before, All to come after it, -so you ignore, So you make perfect the present, condense, In a rapture of rage, for perfection's endowment, Thought and feeling and soul and sense.

All poetry is putting the infinite within the finite.

God is the perfect poet.

A man in armor is his armor's slave.

Most progress is most failure.

One may do whatever one likes. In art, the only thing is, to make sure that one does like it.

All's love, yet all's law.