It's hard to get into this world and hard to get out of it, and what's in between doesn't make much sense.
I never dared to be radical when young for fear it would make me conservative when old.
The first thing I do in any town I come to is ask if it has a bookstore.
You can't trust God to be unmerciful. There you have the beginning of all wisdom.
Hell is a half-filled auditorium.
We cannot tell some people what it is believe, partly because they are too stupid to understand, partly because we are too proudly vague to explain.
The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.
The problem for the King is just how strict The lack of liberty, the squeeze of the law And discipline should be in school and state.
I have wished a bird would fly away, And not sing by my house all day; Have clapped my hands at him from the door When it seemed as if I could bear no more. The fault must partly have been in me. The bird was not to blame for his key. And of course there must be something wrong In wanting to silence any song.
Two such as you with such a master speed, cannot be parted nor be swept away, from one another once you are agreed, that life is only life forevermore, together wing to wing and oar to oar.
A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to look
I could give all to Time except--except What I myself have held.
I shall set forth for somewhere, I shall make the reckless choice Some say when they are in voice And tossing so as to scare The white clouds over them on, I shall have less to say, But I shall be none.
Freud was way off base in considering sex the fundamental motivation. The ruling passion in men is minding each other's business.
The land was ours before we were the land's. She was our land more than a hundred years Before we were her people.
You can be a little ungrammatical if you come from the right part of the country.
When clever people ask me where I get a poem, I despair.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
We ran as if to meet the moon.
Education is hanging around until you've caught on.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to call me back or say good-bye.
The sister's face Fell all in wrinkles of responsibility. She wanted to do right. She'd have to think.
And were an epitaph to be my story I'd have a short one ready for my own. I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover's quarrel with the world.
Loyalty is that for the lack of which your gang will shoot you without benefit of trial by jury.
I was under twenty when I deliberately put it to myself one night after good conversation that there are moments when we actually touch in talk what the best writing can only come near. The curse of our book language is not so much that it keeps forever to the same set phrases . . . but that it sounds forever with the same reading tones. We must go out into the vernacular for tones that haven't been brought to book.
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