And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor – And this, and so much more? -.
I learn a great deal by merely observing you, and letting you talk as long as you please, and taking note of what you do not say.
I must tell you that I should really like to think there’s something wrong with me- Because, if there isn’t, then there’s something wrong with the world itself-and that’s much more frightening! That would be terrible. So I’d rather believe there is something wrong with me, that could be put right.
This love is silent.
No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists. You cannot value him alone; you must set him, for contrast and comparison, among the dead.
Culture may even be described simply as that which makes life worth living.
The True Church can never fail. For it is based upon a rock.
I do not believe that any writer has ever exposed this bovarysme, the human will to see things as they are not, more clearly than Shakespeare.
If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?
Only by acceptance of the past, can you alter it.
Where is all the knowledge we lost with information?
Finding a way to live the simple life is one of life’s supreme complications.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
Survival is your strength, not your shame.
And right action is freedom From past and future also.
What is this self-inside us, this silent observer, severe and speechless critic, who can terrorize us, and urge us onto futile activity, and in the end, judge us still more severely for the errors into which his own reproaches drove us?
There is no feeling, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music.
Any poet, if he is to survive beyond his 25th year, must alter; he must seek new literary influences; he will have different emotions to express.
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
It seems just possible that a poem might happen to a very young man: but a poem is not poetry -That is a life.