Business today consists in persuading crowds.

Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river is a strong brown god-sullen, untamed and intractable, Patient to some degree, at first recognized as a frontier; Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce; Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges. The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten By the dwellers in cities-ever, however, implacable. Keeping his seasons, and rages, destroyer, reminder Of what men choose to forget. Unhonored, unpropitiated By worshippers of the machine, but waiting, watching and waiting.

A wrong attitude toward nature implies, somewhere, a wrong attitude toward God.

Old men ought to be explorers.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.