“Warm are the still and lucky miles,White shores of longing stretch away,A light of recognition fillsThe whole great day, and brightThe tiny world of lovers' arms.Silence invades the breathing woodWhere drowsy limbs a treasure keep,Now greenly falls the learned shadeAcross the sleeping browsAnd stirs their secret to a smile.Restored! Returned! The lost are borneOn seas of shipwreck home at last:See! In a fire of praising burnsThe dry dumb past, and weOur life-day long shall part no more.”

“The nightingales are sobbing inThe orchards of our mothers,And hearts that we broke long agoHave long been breaking others;Tears are round, the sea is deep:Roll them overboard and sleep. ”

“Lovers have lived so long with giants and elves, they won't believe again in their own size.”

“Shall memory restoreThe steps and the shore,The face and the meeting place;”

“There must always be two kinds of art: escape-art, for man needs escape as he needs food and deep sleep, and parable-art, that art which shall teach man to unlearn hatred and learn love.”

“A fairy tale...on the other hand, demands of the reader total surrender; so long as he is in its world, there must be for him no other.”

“Beloved, we are always in the wrong,Handling so clumsily our stupid lives, Suffering too little or too long,Too careful even in our selfish loves:The decorative manias we obeyDie in grimaces round us every day,Yet through their tohu-bohu comes a voiceWhich utters an absurd command - Rejoice. ”