But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.

We all to some extent meet again and again the same people and certainly in some cases form a kind of family of two or three or more persons who come together life after life until all passionate relations are exhausted, the child of one life the husband, wife, brother, sister of the next. Sometimes, however, a single relationship will repeat itself, turning its revolving wheel again and again.

We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.

Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.

I balanced all, brought all to mind, the years to come seemed waste of breath, a waste of breath the years behind, in balance with this life, this death.

How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart.