Only by you my heart always moves.
Knowledge is a polite word for dead but not buried imagination.
Your head is a living forest full of songbirds.
Now the ears of my ears are awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened.
Love is the whole and more than all.
And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms.
You are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing.
Such was a poet and shall be and is -who’ll solve the depths of horror to defend a sunbeam’s architecture with his life: and carve immortal jungles of despair to hold a mountain’s heartbeat in his hand.
Laughing is just another way of showing people your wise.
That which we die for lives as wholly as that which we live for dies.
Your homecoming will be my homecoming.
Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups violets dandelions And the big bullying daisies through the field wonderful with eyes a little sorry Another comes also picking flowers.
Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are by somebody who can love and who shall be continually reborn, a human being.
If a poet is anybody, he is somebody to whom things made matter very little – somebody who is obsessed by Making.
If 180 million people want to be undead, that’s their funeral, but I happen to like being alive.
Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement.
Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.
To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.
The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.
The hardest challenge is to be yourself in a world where everyone is trying to make you be somebody else.