It's certain there are trout somewhere - And maybe I shall take a trout - but I do not seem to care.

All the wild-witches, those most notable ladies For all their broom-sticks and their tears, Their angry tears, are gone.

We poets would die of loneliness but for women, and we choose our men friends that we may have somebody to talk about women with. Letter to Olivia Shakespeare, 1936

As I thought of these things, I drew aside the curtains and looked out into the darkness, and it seemed to my troubled fancy that all those little points of light filling the sky were the furnaces of innumerable divine alchemists, who labour continually, turning lead into gold, weariness into ecstasy, bodies into souls, the darkness into God; and at their perfect labour my mortality grew heavy, and I cried out, as so many dreamers and men of letters in our age have cried, for the birth of that elaborate spiritual beauty which could alone uplift souls weighted with so many dreams.

Florence Farr once said to me, If we could say to ourselves, with sincerity, 'this passing moment is as good as any I shall ever know,' we could die upon the instant and be united with God.

Hearts with one purpose alone/Through summer and winter seem/Enchanted to a stone/To trouble the living stream.

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