“It's just a moment, we die every night.”

“It is difficultto get the news from poems yet men die miserably every day for lackof what is found there.”

“Outside, the north wind, coming and passing, swelling and dying, lifts the frozen sand drives it a-rattle against the lidless windows and we may dear sit stroking the cat stroking the cat and smiling sleepily, prrrr.”

“Time is a storm in which we are all lost.”

“Imagination though it cannot wipe out the sting of remorse can instruct the mind in its proper uses.”

“Filth and vermin though they shock the over-nice are imperfections of the flesh closely related in the just imagination of the poet to excessive cleanliness.”

“What power has love but forgiveness?In other wordsby its interventionwhat has been donecan be undone.What good is it otherwise?”