That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again and ever again, this soiled world.

This is the city, and I am one of the citizens/Whatever interests the rest interests me

In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word.

The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long.

I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.

There is that indescribable freshness and unconsciousness about an illiterate person that humbles and mocks the power of the noblest expressive genius.

Exact science and its practical movements are no checks on the greatest poet, but always his encouragement and support ... The sailor and traveller, the anatomist, chemist, astronomer, geologist, phrenologist, spiritualist, mathematician, historian and lexicographer are not poets, but they are the lawgivers of poets and their construction underlies the structure of every perfect poem.