The summer night is like a perfection of thought.

Intolerance respecting other people's religion is toleration itself in comparison with intolerance respecting other people's art.

Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy wades through water, feeling with his toes for the bottom: The echoes are the bottom.

Sentimentality is a failure of feeling.

Death is the mother of beauty. Only the perishable can be beautiful, which is why we are unmoved by artificial flowers.

Imagination...is the irrepressible revolutionist.

I am the angel of Reality, Seen for a moment standing in the door.