And I shall find some girl perhaps, and a better one than you, With eyes as wise, but kindlier, and lips as soft, but true, and I dare say she will do.

A book may be compared to your neighbor: if it be good, it cannot last too long; if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.

But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known, And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own.

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

There's little comfort in the wise

I have a thousand images of you in an hour; all different and all coming back to the same. I think of you once against a sky line: and on the hill that Sunday morning. The light and the shadow and quietness and the rain and the wood. And you. Your arms and lips and hair and shoulders and voice - you.

The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss of blankets.