but one loses, as one grows older, something of the lightness of one's dreams; one begins to take life up in both hands, and to care more for the fruit than the flower, and that is no great loss perhaps.

What man does not understand, he fears; and what he fears, he tends to destroy.

We are happy when for everything inside us there is a corresponding something outside us.

Ah, let us kiss each other's eyes,/And laugh our love away.

An intellectual hatred is the worst, So let her think opinions are accursed. Have I not seen the loveliest woman born Out of the mouth of Plenty's horn, Because of her opinionated mind Barter that horn and every good By quiet natures understood For an old bellows full of angry wind?

Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

What shall I do with this absurdity- O heart, O troubled heart-this caricature, Decrepit age that has been tied to me As to a dog's tail? Never had I more Excited, passionate, fantastical Imagination, nor an ear and eye That more expected the impossible.