No man has ever lived that had enough of children's gratitude or woman's love.

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?

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.

Hammer your thoughts into unity.

A line will take us hours maybe; Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught.

All hatred driven hence, The soul recovers radical innocence And learns at last that it is self-delighting, Self-appeasing, self-affrighting, And that its own sweet will is Heaven's will

There is no deformity But saves us from a dream.