A prose that is altogether alive demands something of the reader that the ordinary novel reader is not prepared to give.

The end is in the beginning.

The bad poet is usually unconscious where he ought to be conscious, and conscious where he ought to be unconscious.

Upon the glazen shelves kept watch Matthew and Waldo, guardians of the faith The army of unalterable law.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us... and we drown.

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river Is a strong brown god-sullen, untamed and intractable.