I have need to busy my heart with quietude.

There are only three things in the world, one is to read poetry, another is to write poetry, and the best of all is to live poetry.

But somewhere, beyond Space and Time, is wetter water, slimier slime! And there (they trust) there swimmeth one who swam ere rivers were begun, immense of fishy form and mind, squamous omnipotent, and kind.

I know what things are good: friendship and work and conversation. These I shall have.

For Cambridge people rarely smile, Being urban, squat, and packed with guile.

Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress; and love has changed to kindliness.

Store up reservoirs of calm and content and draw on them at later moments when the source isn't there, but the need is very great.