We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
A thought Of that late death took all my heart for speech.
If a poet interprets a poem of his own he limits its suggestibility.
Why should we honour those that die upon the field of battle? A man may show as reckless a courage in entering into the abyss of himself.
Everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.