“only an aching heart Conceives a changeless work of art.”

The worst thing about some men is that when they are not drunk they are sober.

One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

Man is in love and loves what vanishes, What more is there to say?

If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.

Words are always getting conventionalized to some secondary meaning. It is one of the works of poetry to take the truants in custody and bring them back to their right senses.

Wine enters through the mouth, Love, the eyes. I raise the glass to my mouth, I look at you, I sigh.

But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

There is another world, but it is in this one.

Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled. Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.

What can be explained is not poetry.

The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood.

Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.

And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.

It seems to me that love, if it is fine, is essentially a discipline.

Love is created and preserved by intellectual analysis, for we love only that which is unique, and it belongs to contemplation, not to action, for we would not change that which we love.

In dreams begins responsibility.

Fashion is more art than art is.

Being good in business is the most fascinating kind of art.

Land really is the best art.

My work is always better when I am alone and follow my own impressions.

With her, the world becomes art.

A basic law: the more you practice the art of thankfulness, the more you have to be thankful for.

Most people in America think Art is a man’s name.

The art of living is the art of knowing how to believe lies. The fearful thing about it is that, not knowing what truth may be, we can still recognize lies.