How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!.

Polyphonic prose is a kind of free verse, except that it is still freer. Polyphonic makes full use of cadence, rime, alliteration, assonance..

Everything mortal has moments immortal.

Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give..

May is much sunshine through small leaves..

My! ain't men blinder'n moles?.

When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum..

I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it..

Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon..

Now you are come! You tremble like a star Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set. Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb And mute, ….

To-night when the full-bellied moon swallows the stars. Grant that I know..

A black cat among roses, phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon, the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still. ….

Youth condemns; maturity condones.

Happiness: We rarely feel it. I would buy it, beg it, steal it, Pay in coins of dripping blood For this one transcendent good..

Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know..

I should like to bring a case to trial: Prosperity versus Beauty, Cash registers teetering in a balance against the comfort of the soul..

Lilacs, False Blue, White, Purple, Colour of lilac, Your great puffs of flowers Are everywhere in this my New England ... Lilacs in dooryards Ho….

I never deny poems when they come; whatever I am doing, whatever I am writing, I lay it aside and attend to the arriving poem..

Don’t ask a writer what he’s working on. It’s like asking someone with cancer on the progress of his disease..

Can you see through the night, woman, that you stare so upon it? Man, what sparks do your eyes follow in the smouldering darkness?.

Poets are always the advance guard of literature; the advance guard of life. It is for this reason that their recognition comes so slowly..