Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.

Everything is complicated; if that were not so, life and poetry and everything else would be a bore.

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

The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.

Out of this same light, out of the central mind, We make a dwelling in the evening air, In which being there together is enough.

An old argument with me is that the true religious force in the world is not the church, but the world itself: the mysterious callings of Nature and our responses.

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