People who lean on logic and philosophy and rational exposition end by starving the best part of the mind.

If what I say resonates with you, it's merely because we're branches of the same tree.

If a poet interprets a poem of his own he limits its suggestibility.

There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.

Cuchulain stirred, Stared on the horses of the sea, and heard The cars of battle and his own name cried; And fought with the invulnerable tide.

The true poet is all the time a visionary and whether with friends or not, as much alone as a man on his death bed.

While they danced they came over them the weariness with the world, the melancholy, the pity one for the other, which is the exultation of love.