Signs Are Taken For Wonders. / 'we

The Poet's Mind Is In Fact A Receptacle For Seizing And Storing Up Numberless Feelings, Phrases, Images, Which Remain There Until All The Particles Which Can Unite To Form A New Compound Are Present Together.

It's Harder To Confess The Sin That No One Believes In Than The Crime That Everyone Can Appreciate. For The Crime Is In Relation To The Law And The Sin Is In Relation To The Sinner.

No Poet, No Artist Of Any Art, Has His Complete Meaning Alone.

If We Really Want To Pray We Must First Learn To Listen, For In The Silence Of The Heart God Speaks.

Philosophy: A Purple Bullfinch In A Lilac Tree.