Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.

The tiger springs in the new year. Us he devours.

What have we given? My friend, blood shaking my heart The awful daring of a moment's surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed.

The Church must be forever building, for it is forever decaying within and attacked from without.

So I find words I never thought to speak In streets I never thought I should revisit When I left my body on a distant shore.

Any religion is forever in danger of petrifaction into mere ritual and habit, though ritual and habit be essential to religion.

Do I dare disturb the universe?