I take as metaphysical poetry that in which what is ordinarily apprehensible only by thought is brought within the grasp of feeling, or that in which what is ordinarily only felt is transformed into thought without ceasing to be feeling.

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

The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends, And how, how rare and strange it is, to find In a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends, (For indeed I do not love it ... you knew? you are not blind! How keen you are!) To find a friend who has these qualities, Who has, and gives Those qualities upon which friendship lives. How much it means that I say this to you- Without these friendships-life, what cauchemar!

Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance

Let's not be narrow, nasty, and negative.