It is strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise.

I found more joy in sorrow than you could find in joy.

Take love when love is given, But never think to find it A sure escape from sorrow Or a complete repose.

What we have never had, remains; It is the things we have that go.

Let this single hour atone For the theft of all of me

There's nothing half so real in life as the things you've done... inexorably, unalterably done.

The poet should try to give his poem the quiet swiftness of flame, so that the reader will feel and not think while he is reading. But the thinking will come afterwards.