The Deepest Feeling Always Shows Itself In

The Ocean, Under The Pulsation Of Lighthouses And Noise Of Bell Buoys, Advances As Usual, Looking As If It Were Not That Ocean In Which Dropped Things Are Bound To Sink-- In Which If They Turn And Twist, It Is Neither With Volition Nor Consciousness.

Poetry Is A Peerless Proficiency Of The Imagination.

Poetry, That Is To Say The Poetic, Is A Primal Necessity.

Men Are Monopolists Of "stars, Garters, Buttons And Other Shining Baubles"- Unfit To Be The Guardians Of Another Person's Happiness.

Dürer Would Have Seen A Reason For Living In A Town Like This.