My candle burns at both ends; it will not last the night; but ah, my foes, and oh, my friends - it gives a lovely light!
I am glad that I paid so little attention to good advice; had I abided by it I might have been saved from some of my most valuable mistakes.
Life must go on; I forget just why.
Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread.
Beauty is whatever gives joy.
Although we sometimes did without a few of life's necessities, we rarely lacked for its luxuries.
Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.
When you publish something, it is very much as if you pulled your pants down in public. If what you have written is good, nobody can hurt you; if what you have written is bad, nobody can help you.
It's not true that life is one damn thing after another; it is one damn thing over and over.
I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
The soul can split the sky in two and let the face of God shine through.
Need we say it was not love, Now that love is perished?
The heart grows weary after a little Of what it loved for a little while.
You are loved. If so, what else matters?
Life is a quest and love a quarrel
Now the autumn shudders In the rose's root. Far and wide the ladders Lean among the fruit. Now the autumn clambers Up the trellised frame, And the rose remembers The dust from which it came. Brighter than the blossom On the rose's bough Sits the wizened orange, Bitter berry now; Beauty never slumbers; All is in her name; But the rose remembers The dust from which it came.
My heart is warm with the friends I make, And better friends I'll not be knowing, Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take, No matter where it's going.
I love humanity but I hate people.
The world stands out on either side, No wider than the heart is wide.
I am waylaid by beauty.
There is no shelter in you anywhere.
God, I can push the grass apart and lay my finger on Thy heart.
I would I were alive again To kiss the fingers of the rain, To drink into my eyes the shine Of every slanting silver line, To catch the freshened, fragrant breeze From drenched and dripping apple-trees. For soon the shower will be done, And then the broad face of the sun Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth Until the world with answering mirth Shakes joyously, and each round drop Rolls twinkling, from its grass-blade top.
You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that.
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