“My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness.”

“It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.”

“My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?”

“Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends. --Bernard, The Waves”

“I feel my brains, like a pear, to see if it's ripe; it will be exquisite by September.”

“Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?”

“All extremes of feeling are allied with madness.”