We do not pass twice through the same door Or return to the door through which we did not pass.

...the still point in a turning world.

Before a cat will condescend to treat you as a trusted friend, some little token of esteem is needed, like a dish of cream.

People find a way in which they can say something.

We fight to keep something alive rather than in the expectation that anything will triumph.

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.

And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you I will show you fear in a handful of dust