Does it matter whether you hate yourself? At least love your eyes that can see, your mind that can hear the music, the thunder of the wings.

Seagulls . . . slim yachts of the element.

Death's a fierce meadowlark: but to die having made / Something more equal to the centuries / Than muscle and bone, is mostly to shed weakness.

Cruelty is a part of nature, at least of human nature, but it is the one thing that seems unnatural to us.

Truly men hate the truth; they'd liefer meet a tiger on the road.

You making haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains: shine, perishing republic.

The greatest beauty is organic wholeness, the wholeness of life and things, the divine beauty of the universe.