I drink alone in my study, huddled close to the brazier.

Get rid of words and meaning, and there is still poetry.

Get rid of words, and get rid of meaning, and still there is poetry.

The poet must work with brush and paper,but this is not what makes the poem. A man does not go in search of a poem - the poem comes in search of him.

I find it difficult to trust my eyes. Things are never what they seem.

Music replays the past memories, awaken our forgotten worlds and make our minds travel.

Oh yes, even I cry. Just not over you. Who is "you?" The one who has to ask or the one who doesn't?

What Grimm fairy tale featured apiarian morphing humans?

It's one of the strangest attributes of this profession that when we writers get exhausted writing one thing, we relax by writing another.

Oh, how strenuous is life! I know a little of it. Men "ought always to pray, and not to faint." How fierce the battle! I know something of the conflict, but I ought not to faint, because I can pray.

Enjoy pleasures, but let them be your own, and then you will taste them.

Let us keep to Christ, and cling to Him, and hang on Him, so that no power can remove us.

There's a lot of history in Boston and a lot of history, obviously, in New York with all the championships.

It seems that the greatest difficulty is to find the end. Don't try to find it, it's there already.