The blessed spirits must be sought within the self which is common to all

The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves The brilliant moon and all the milky sky And all that famous harmony of leaves Had blotted out man's image and his cry.

I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young / And weep because I know all things now.

I believe... that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.

Does the imagination dwell the most Upon a woman won or a woman lost?

I Sing what was lost and dread what was won, / I walk in a battle fought over again.

Our own acts are isolated and one act does not buy absolution for another.