“On the shining yards of heaven See a wider dawn unfurled. . . . The eternal slaves of beauty Are the masters of the world.”

I often wish… that I could rid the world of the tyranny of facts. What are facts but compromises? A fact merely marks the point where we have agreed to let investigation cease.

Have little care that Life is brief, And less that Art is long. Success is in the silences Though Fame is in the song.

I heard the spring light whisper Above the dancing stream, The world is made forever in likeness of a dream.

Love manifests itself in our bodies as instinctive craving, in our souls as devotion, and in our minds as pride.

Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune I saw the white daisies go down to the sea, A host in the sunshine, an army in June, The people God sends us to set our heart free.

The greatest joy in nature is the absence of man.

There is a passion for perfection which you will rarely see fully developed; but you may note this fact, that in successful lives it is never wholly lacking.

There is only one way in the world to be distinguished. Follow your instinct! Be yourself, and you’ll be somebody. Be one more blind follower of the blind, and you will have the oblivion you desire.

The first need of being is endurance; to endure with gladness if we can, with fortitude in any event.

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood- Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

It is not being out at heels that makes a man discontented, it is being out at heart. To be contented is to be good friends with yourself.

We can never sneer at the stars, mock the dawn, or scoff at the totality of being.

Do not be small minded. Do not pray for gourds and pumpkins from God, when you should be asking for pure love and pure knowledge to dawn within every heart.

No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn.

What have they done to the earth? What have they done to our fair sister?

A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.

Erotic play discloses a nameless world which is revealed by the nocturnal language of lovers. Such language is not written down. It is whispered into the ear at night in a hoarse voice. At dawn it is forgotten.

Say, has some wet bird-haunted English lawn Lent it the music of its trees at dawn?

Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.