To know whom to write for is to know how to write.

All great writers have, of course, an atmosphere in which they seem most at their ease and at their best; a mood of the general mind which they interpret and indeed almost discover, so that we come to read them rather for that than for any story or character or scene of seperate excellence.

He loved, beneath all this summer transiency, to feel the earth's spine beneath him; for such he took the hard root of the oak tree to be; or, for image followed image, it was the back of a great horse that he was riding, or the deck of a tumbling ship -- it was anything indeed, so long as it was hard, for he felt the need of something which he could attach his floating heart to; the heart that tugged at his side; the heart that seemed filled with spiced and amorous gales every evening about this time when he walked out.

Lies will flow from my lips, but there may perhaps be some truth mixed up with them.

To be nothing - is that not, after all, the most satisfactory fact in the whole world?

Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you

Love, the poet said, is woman's whole existence.