My Creed Is Love And You Are

Already With Thee! Tender Is The Night. . . But Here There Is No Light. . .

... Who Alive Can Say 'thou Art No Poet - Mayst Not Tell Thy Dreams'? Since Every Man Whose Soul Is Not A Clod Hath Visions, And Would Speak, If He Had Loved, And Been Well Nurtured In His Mother Tongue.

If Poetry Does Not Come As Naturally As Leaves To A Tree, Then It Better Not Come At All.

Call The World If You Please "the Vale Of Soul-making." Then You Will Find Out The Use Of The World.

Wine Is Only Sweet To Happy Men.