A profusion of pink roses being ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring.

beauty’ is related not to ‘loveliness’ but to a state in which reality plays a part.

Imagination though it cannot wipe out the sting of remorse can instruct the mind in its proper uses.

Empty pockets make empty heads.

O frost bitten blossoms, That are unfolding your wings From out the envious black branches. Bloom quickly and make much of the sunshine. The twigs conspire against you! Hear hem! They hold you from behind.

Death will be too late to bring us aid.

It is almost impossible to state what one in fact believes, because it is almost impossible to hold a belief and to define it at the same time.