Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist.

The moment eternal - just that and no more - When ecstasy's utmost we clutch at the core While cheeks burn, arms open, eyes shut, and lips meet!

All service ranks the same with God,- With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first.

Talent should minister to genius.

Escape me? Never, beloved! While I am I, and you are you.

There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life.

All poetry is putting the infinite within the finite.