The trees encountered on a country stroll Reveal a lot about that country's soul ... A culture is no better than its woods.

A poet can write about a man slaying a dragon, but not about a man pushing a button that releases a bomb.

The poet who writes "free" verse is like Robinson Crusoe on his desert island: he must do all his cooking, laundry and darning for himself. In a few exceptional cases, this manly independence produces something original and impressive, but more often the result is squalor - dirty sheets on the unmade bed and empty bottles on the unswept floor.

In a world of prayer, we are all equal in the sense that each of us is a unique person, with a unique perspective on the world, a member of a class of one.

And none will hear the postman’s knock Without a quickening of the heart. For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

We are not commanded (or forbidden) to love our mates, our children, our friends, our country because such affections come naturally to us and are good in themselves, although we may corrupt them. We are commanded to love our neighbor because our natural attitude toward the other is one of either indifference or hostility.

The camera may do justice to laughter, but must degrade sorrow.