It's a funny thing that when a man hasn't anything on earth to worry about, he goes off and gets married.

The question that he frames in all but words is what to make of a diminished thing.

Let him that is without stone among you cast the first thing he can lay his hands on.

The only way round is through.

Have I not walked without an upward look Of caution under stars that very well Might not have missed me when they shot and fell? It was a risk I had to take-and took.

The figure a poem makes. It begins in delight and ends in wisdom.

The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader. I know people who read without hearing the sentence sounds and they were the fastest readers. Eye readers we call them. They get the meaning by glances. But they are bad readers because they miss the best part of what a good writer puts into his work.