The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day. When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, a cloud come over the sunlit arch, And wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.

The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.

All thought is a feat of association; having what's in front of you bring up something in your mind that you almost didn't know you knew

Two such as you with such a master speed Cannot be parted nor be swept away

Not yesterday I learned to know The love of bare November days Before the coming of the snow.

The heart can think of no devotion Greater than being shore to the ocean- Holding the curve of one position, Counting an endless repetition.

A definite purpose, like blinders on a horse, inevitably narrows its possessor's point of view.