Poetry cannot take sides except with life.

Never allow gradually the traffic to smother with noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

So i learned both to accept myself and to aim beyond myself

Bright clasp of her whole hand around my finger My daughter as we walk together now. All my life I'll feel a ring invisibly Circle this bone with shining When she is grown.

Religion stands, the Church blocking the sun.

There is a certain justice in criticism. The critic is like a midwife - a tyrannical midwife.

History is the ship carrying living memories to the future.