A pear should come to the table popped with juice, Ripened in warmth and served in warmth. On terms Like these, autumn beguiles the fatalist.

The summer night is like a perfection of thought.

I certainly do not exist from nine to six, when I am at the office.

One must read poetry with one's nerves.

Realism is a corruption of reality.

Poetry is a response to the daily necessity of getting the world right.

Next to love is the desire for love.