The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying.

God is gracious to some very peculiar people.

Poetry is the scholar's art.

I am what is around me.

It is the unknown that excites the ardor of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredom.

Unfortunately there is nothing more inane than an Easter carol. It is a religious perversion of the activity of Spring in our blood.

We have been a little insane about the truth. We have had an obsession.