All women are not Helen, I know that, but have Helen in their hearts.

The only realism in art is of the imagination.

The business of love is cruelty which, by our wills, we transform to live together.

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

THE THOUGHTFUL LOVER Deny yourself all half things. Have it or leave it. But it will keep—or it is not worth the having. Never start anything you can't finish— However do not lose faith because you are starved! She loves you she says. Believe it —tomorrow. But today the particulars of poetry that difficult art require your whole attention.

The perfect type of the man of action is the suicide.

Either I exist or I do not exist, and no amount of pap which I happen to be lapping can dull me to the loss.