But at my back from time to time I hear The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring. O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter And on her daughter They wash their feet in soda water.

Gin and drugs, dear lady, gin and drugs.

Humankind cannot bear very much reality.

Death has a hundred hands and walks by a thousand ways.

Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall My buried life, and Paris in the spring, I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world To be wonderful and youthful afterall

And the end and the beginning were always there Before the beginning and after the end.

The great ages did not contain the best talent, they wasted less.