“I think that to transfuse emotion – not to transmit thought but to set up in the reader’s sense a vibration corresponding to what was felt by the writer – is the peculiar function of poetry.”

And silence sounds no worse than cheers After earth has stopped the ears.

The fairies break their dances And leave the printed lawn.

His folly has not fellow Beneath the blue of day That gives to man or woman His heart and soul away.

Stone, steel, dominions pass, Faith too, no wonder; So leave alone the grass That I am under.

But if you ever come to a road where danger; Or guilt or anguish or shame’s to share. Be good to the lad who loves you true, And the soul that was born to die for you; And whistle and I’ll be there.

I could no more define poetry than a terrier can define a rat.

And how am I to face the odds Of man’s bedevilment and God’s? I, a stranger and afraid In a world I never made.

Earth and high heaven are fixed of old and founded strong.

The average man, if he meddles with criticism at all, is a conservative critic.

Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour, He stood and counted them and cursed his luck; And then the clock collected in the tower Its strength, and struck.

When the journey’s over/There’ll be time enough to sleep.

He would not stay for me, and who can wonder? He would not stay for me to stand and gaze. I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder, And went with half my life about my ways.

I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.

All knowledge is precious whether or not it serves the slightest human use.

Look not in my eyes, for fear They mirror true the sight I see, And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me.

June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter’s cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mould.

What might be said of things in themselves, separated from all relationship to our senses, remains for us absolutely unknown.

Work well done is not only a responsibility to yourselves and society; it is also an emotional need.

The deepest urge in human nature is the desire to be important.

In maintaining distance from your thought and emotion, you can become available to the grace of the greatest beings.

All of us have wonders hidden in our breasts, only needing circumstances to evoke them.

My emotions allow me to create that is something only I dictate.

Rainbows of emotions ring our hearts to enjoy and feel songs of love’s cappuccino yearning to be a poetic vow!

The mind is a powerful instrument. Every thought, every emotion that you create changes the very chemistry of your body.