“the activity of modern poets stands under the decree of necessity, as though they were building a pyramid, the monstruos residence of a dead King or an unborn God.”

“To be modern means to like antique furniture - and youthful neurosis.”

“Was weiß denn ich vom Menschenleben?Bin freilich scheinbar drin gestanden,Aber ich hab es höchstens verstanden,Konnte mich nie darein verweben.”

“So las ich falsch in deinem Aug, dem tiefen?Kein heimlich Sehnen sah ich heiß dort funkeln?Es birgt zu deiner Seele keine PforteDein feuchter Blick? Die Wünsche, die dort schliefen,Wie stille Rosen in der Flut, der dunkeln,Sind, wie dein Plaudern: seellos... Worte, Worte?”

“God decreed that the love which came to Cosette was a love that saves.”

“Your little sisterHas tossed her Untied hair forwardLike a living veil,Like a fragrant hedge,And peers, with such eyes!Through a fragrant veil,Through a dark hedge ...How sweet it is to onlyThink of such little things.Fruits have ripenedOn all the longing branches In your nightly garden,Chinese lanterns like red fruitsSway and illuminateThe longing branchesRustled by the night windIn your little garden ...How sweet it is to onlyThink of such little things.”

“Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all.”