Criticism is properly the rod of divination: a hazel switch for the discovery of buried treasure, not a birch twig for the castigation of offenders.

A realist, in Venice, would become a romantic by mere faithfulness to what he saw before him.

The desert of virginity Aches in the hotness of her mouth.

My soul is like this cloudy, flaming opal ring.

The clamours of spring are the same old delicate noises, The earth renews its magical youth at a breath.

Vaguely conscious of that great suspense in which we live, we find our escape from its sterile, annihilating reality in many dreams, in religion, passion, art.

As perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me: all things leave me: You remain.

The wind is rising on the sea,The windy white foam-dancers leap;And the sea moans uneasily,And turns to sleep, and cannot sleep.

The English mist is always at work like a subtle painter, and London is a vast canvas prepared for the mist to work on.

To have loved, to have been made happy thus, / What better fate has life in store for us?

I had my dreams of Venice, but nothing that I had dreamed was as impossible as what I found.

One of the expedients of party to acquire influence, within particular districts, is to misrepresent the opinions and aims of other districts.

It is the ability to take a joke, not make one, that proves you have a sense of humor.

I believe that President Clinton considered the legal merits of the arguments for the pardon as he understood them, and he rendered his judgment, wise or unwise, on the merits.

Currently I'm working with Parker Fly on a new Midi guitar to arrive next year.

The People, when they start to applaud you and support, that means a lot

The best way to do research is to make a radical assumption and then assume it's true. For me, I use the assumption that object oriented programming is the way to go.

Being able to ‘think out of the box’ presupposes you were able to think in it.

The arrow belongs not to the archer when it has once left the bow; the word no longer belongs to the speaker when it has once passed his lips, especially when it has been multiplied by the press.

I think striking the right tone for your story is, if you like, the alchemical work of writing.

I am glad I am an optimist. The pessimist is half-licked before he starts.