Sometimes I shrink from your knowing what I have felt for you, and sometimes I am distressed that all of it you will never know.

Everybody is so talented nowadays that the only people I care to honor as deserving real distinction are those who remain in obscurity.

The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing alive enough to have strength to die. (from "Neutral Tones")

Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock. "Now they are all on their knees," An elder said as we sat in a flock By the embers in hearth-side ease. We pictured the meek mild creatures where They dwelt in their strawy pen, Nor did it occur to one of us there To doubt they were kneeling then. So fair a fancy few would weave In these years! yet, I feel If someone said on Christmas Eve, "Come; see the oxen kneel, In the lonely barton by yonder coomb Our childhood used to know," I should go with him in the gloom, Hoping it might be so.

Beauty lay not in the thing, but in what the thing symbolized.

Sometimes I shrink from your knowing what I have felt for you, and sometimes I am distressed that all of it you will never know.

That man's silence is wonderful to listen to.