The falcon cannot hear the falconer

I kiss you and kiss you, With arms around my own, Ah, how shall I miss you, When, dear, you have grown.

An intellectual hate is the worst.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.

Words are always getting conventionalized to some secondary meaning. It is one of the works of poetry to take the truants in custody and bring them back to their right senses.

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

We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living Breathe on the tarnished mirror of the world, And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh.