“By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.”

Think like a wise man but communicate in the language of the people.

The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.

In dreams begin responsibilitiy.

Where there is nothing, there is God.

Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.

Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast, Drowning love’s lonely hour in deep twilight of rest.

I have observed dreams and visions very carefully, and am now certain that the imagination has some way of lighting on the truth that the reason has not, and that its commandments, delivered when the body is still and the reason silent, are the most binding we can ever know.

An intellectual hate is the worst.

The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.

Myself I must remake.

Everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.

Any fool can fight a winning battle, but it needs character to fight a losing one, and that should inspire us; which reminds me that I dreamed the other night that I was being hanged, but was the life and soul of the party.

Joy is of the will which labours, which overcomes obstacles, which knows triumph.

Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest soon topples down the hill.

What man does not understand, he fears; and what he fears, he tends to destroy.

I cast my heart into my rhymes, That you, in the dim coming times, May know how my heart went with them After the red-rose-bordered hem.

Failure is delay, but not defeat. It is a temporary detour, not a dead-end street.

If you kin see de light at daybreak, you don’t keer if you die at dusk. It’s so many people never seen de light at all.

Flying off the handle sometimes causes hammers and humans to lose their heads, as well as their effectiveness.

And I can’t die easy thinking maybe the menfolks white or black is making a spit cup out of you. Have some sympathy for me. Put me down easy, Janie, I’m a cracked plate.

He said you were the only one who was bitter about S’s suicide and the only one who really forgave him for it. The rest of us, he said, were outwardly unbitter and inwardly unforgiving.

We don’t actually fear death, we fear that no one will notice our absence, that we will disappear without a trace.

She knew now that marriage did not make love. Janie’s first dream was dead, so she became a woman.

It would have been so pointless to kill himself that, even if he had wanted to, the pointlessness would have made him unable.