There is no such thing as a lost cause, because there is no such thing as a gained cause

If we are moved by a poem, it has meant something, perhaps something important, to us; if we are not moved, then it is, as poetry, meaningless.

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.

No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone.

For you know only a heap of broken images

For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

In the room the women come and go talking of Michelangelo.