I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate wilfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better.

I end not far from my going forth By picking the faded blue Of the last remaining aster flower To carry again to you.

For, dear me, why abandon a belief, Merely because it ceases to be true, Cling to it long enough, and not a doubt, It will turn true again, for so it goes.

All there is to writing is having ideas. To learn to write is to learn to have ideas.

I dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago.

He thought that I was after him for a feather--- The white one in his tail: like one who takes everything said as personal to himself.

The people I am most afraid of are those who are the most afraid.