Heaven gives its glimpses only to those not in position to look too close.

A voice said, Look me in the stars And tell me truly, men of earth, If all the soul-and-body scars Were not too much to pay for birth.

Two roads diverged in a wood and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

Poetry is the renewal of words, setting them free, and that's what a poet is doing: loosening the words.

But strictly held by none, is loosely bound By countless silken ties of love and thought To everything on earth the compass round, And only by one's going slightly taut In the capriciousness of summer air Is of the slightest bondage made aware.

Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee, and I'll forgive Thy great big joke on me.

Nor is there wanting in the press Some spirit to stand simply forth, Heroic in it nakedness, Against the uttermost of earth. The tale of earth's unhonored things Sounds nobler there than 'neath the sun; And the mind whirls and the heart sings, And a shout greets the daring one.