There Are Strange Flowers Of Reason To

O Months Of Blossoming, Months Of Transfigurations, May Without Cloud And June Stabbed To The Heart, I Shall Not Ever Forget The Lilacs Or The Roses Nor Those The Spring Has Kept Folded Away Apart.

There Are Strange Flowers Of Reason To Match Each Error Of The Senses.

In Our Day There Are No Longer Any Ideas, Or They Are Scarcer Than Hens' Teeth.

Your Imagination, My Dear Fellow, Is Worth More Than You Imagine.

Love Is Made By Two People, In Different Kinds Of Solitude. It Can Be In A Crowd, But In An Oblivious Crowd.