I suppose I passed it a hundred times, But I always stop for a minute. And look at the house, the tragic house, The house with nobody in it.

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.

The air is like a butterfly With frail blue wings. The happy earth looks at the sky And sings.

Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree

The only reason a road is good as every wanderer knows / Is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which one goes

The fairy poet takes a sheet Of moonbeam, silver white; His ink is dew from daisies sweet, His pen a point of light.

There is no place in which to hide when Age comes seeking for his bride.

There is no peace to be taken With poets who are young, For they worry about the wars to be fought and the songs that must be sung.

For nothing keeps a poet In his high singing mood Like unappeasable hunger For unattainable food.

Things have a terrible permanence when people die.

I think that I shall never scan A tree as lovely as a man. . . . . A tree depicts divinest plan, But God himself lives in a man.

Don't expect people behave the way you want them to.

Nina, you taught me to be something better. They could be taught, too.

when we're done, I'll be where the night never stopscradling a bruise that's shaped like youwondering why sleep never came to mewondering how I still dreamed

We are irrational animals trained to be rational.

The tree of knowledge of good and evil.

Over the years, I have been asked to play these sort of scary frenetic characters that express their emotions physically.

It is a time when one's spirit is subdued and sad, one knows not why; when the past seems a storm-swept desolation, life a vanity and a burden, and the future but a way to death.

I am privileged to have played basketball.

I usually don't say anything to the actors. It works better for me because when they come to the set, they are at the same time scared and excited because they are not well aware of what will happen.

If there's one thing I've learned in this life, it's that you never say no to an old gypsy woman with a blind eye and leprous fingernails.