Think neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices are fathered by our heroism. Virtues are forced upon us by our impudent crimes. These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree.

Do I dare disturb the universe?

Every experience is a paradox in that it means to be absolute, and yet is relative; in that it somehow always goes beyond itself and yet never escapes itself.

Words strain, crack, and sometime break, under the burden.

We ask only to be reassured About the noises in the cellar And the window that should not have been open

When a great poet has lived, certain things have been done once for all, and cannot be achieved again.

Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.