The decline of true taste for food is the beginning of a decline in a national culture as a whole. When people have lost their authentic personal taste, they lose their personality and become the instruments of other people's wills.

Anthropologists are a connecting link between poets and scientists; though their field-work among primitive peoples has often made them forget the language of science.

This seems to me a philosophical question, and therefore irrelevant, question. A poet's destiny is to love.

The function of poetry is religious invocation of the muse; its use is the experience of mixed exaltation and horror that her presence excites.

For words of rapture groping, they"Never such love," swore "ever before was!"

One gets to the heart of the matter by a series of experiences in the same pattern, but in different colors.

She tells her love while half asleep, In the dark hours, With half-words whispered low: As Earth stirs in her winter sleep And puts out grass and flowers Despite the snow, Despite the falling snow.