Have little care that Life is brief, And less that Art is long. Success is in the silences Though Fame is in the song.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry Of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit thrills To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

Set me a task in which I can put something of my very self, and it is a task no longer; it is joy; it is art.

Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune I saw the white daisies go down to the sea, A host in the sunshine, an army in June, The people God sends us to set our heart free.

I took a day to search for God, And found Him not. But as I trod By rocky ledge, through woods untamed, Just where one scarlet lily flamed, I saw His foot print in the sod.

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood- Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

Lord of the far horizons, Give us the eyes to see Over the verge of the sundown The beauty that is to be.

I often wish... that I could rid the world of the tyranny of facts. What are facts but compromises? A fact merely marks the point where we have agreed to let investigation cease.

There is only one way in the world to be distinguished. Follow your instinct! Be yourself, and you'll be somebody. Be one more blind follower of the blind, and you will have the oblivion you desire.

A 'fact' merely marks the point where we have agreed to let investigation cease.

Thank God for poverty That makes and keeps us free And lets us go our unobtrusive way, Glad of the sun and rain, Upright, serene, humane, Contented with the fortune of a day.

The universe created us to be happy.

It is a curiosity of writing about angels that, very often, one turns out to be writing about men.

Human evolution relies on cooperation, which is why identity politics feels so backward.

Rome in the ages, dimmed with all her towers, / Floats in the mist, a little cloud at tether.

One war only breeds another.

We all fall in life The question is who gets back up!

Most people discover that when hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with their own pain.

In every trouble the little ones duck more easily.

I'm a serial deconstructor of my own authority in certain areas.

Beethoven suppressed everything, his personal life disappeared until he was locked inside. That is a figure quite extreme.