I Wait For The Morning

If A Poet Would Work Politically, He Must Give Himself Up To A Party; And So Soon As He Does That, He Is Lost As A Poet.

Everyone Is Deceived In His Hopes, Cheated In His Expectations.

Stones Are Mute Teachers; They Silence The Observer, And The Most Valuable Lesson We Learn From Them We Cannot Communicate.

Habit Is The Most Imperious Of All Masters.

Nature Goes Her Own Way, And All That To Us Seems An Exception Is Really According To Order.