Frogs eat Butterflies, Snakes eat Frogs, Hogs eat Snakes, Men eat Hogs.

At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.

It is easy to suppose that few people realize on that occasion, which comes to all of us, when we look at the blue sky for the first time, that is to say: not merely see it, but look at it and experience it and for the first time have a sense that we live in the center of a physical poetry, a geography that would be intolerable except for the non-geography that exists there - few people realize that they are looking at the world of their own thoughts and the world of their own feelings.

Life's nonsense pierces us with strange relation.

Death is the mother of Beauty; hence from her, alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams and our desires.

One cannot spend one's time in being modern when there are so many more important things to be.

Key West, unfortunately, is becoming rather literary and artistic.