“I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. ”
“I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a hot-gushing, butt-cramping, gut hosing orgasm.”
“I think that I shall never seeA poem lovely as a tree.A tree whose hungry mouth is pressedAgainst the earth's sweet flowing breast;A tree that looks at God all dayAnd lifts her leafy arms to pray;A tree that may in summer wearA nest of robins in her hair;Upon whose bosom snow has lain;Who intimately lives with rain.Poems are made by fools like me,But only God can make a tree.”
“And I'm not a poet: but never despair!I'll madly live the poems I shall never write.”
“Shall I desire to see her naked?Like a naked tree.”
“I never have been in love; it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall.”