And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.

In dreams begins responsibility.

The Mask "Put off that mask of burning gold With emerald eyes." "O no, my dear, you make so bold To find if hearts be wild and wise, And yet not cold." "I would but find what's there to find, Love or deceit." "It was the mask engaged your mind, And after set your heart to beat, Not what's behind." "But lest you are my enemy, I must enquire." "O no, my dear, let all that be, What matter, so there is but fire In you, in me?"

BELOVED, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there.

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

I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember, the place is so beautiful. One almost expects the people to sing instead of speaking. It is all like an opera.

Where there is nothing, there is God.