We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it.

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

We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.

Come away, O human child: To the waters and the wild with a fairy, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Love is based on inequality as friendship is on equality.

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

The intellect of man is forced to choose Perfection of the life, or of the work And if it take the second must refuse A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.