The rain to the wind said, You push and I'll pelt.' They so smote the garden bed That the flowers actually knelt, And lay lodged--though not dead. I know how the flowers felt.

I'm not a teacher, but an awakener.

Unless you are educated in metaphor, you are not safe to be let loose in the world.

He says the best way out is always through. / And I can agree to that, or in so far / As that I can see no way out but through

One age is like another for the soul.

That day she put our heads together, Fate had her imagination about her, Your head so much concerned with outer, Mine with inner, weather.

Poets like Shakespeare know more about poetry than any $25 an hour man.