The world is full of willing people; some willing to work, the rest willing to let them.
An idea is a feat of association, and the height of it is a good metaphor.
Only God and I knew what I meant when I wrote it, now only God knows
To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
The footpath down to the well is healed.