One sparrow is worth a thousand gulls, / When it sings. The gull sits on chimney-tops. / He mocks the guinea, challenges / The crow, inciting various modes. / The sparrow requites one, without intent.

The house was quiet and the world was calm. / The reader became the book; and the summer night / Was like the conscious being of the book / The house was quiet and the world was calm.

The tomb in Palestine Is not the porch of spirits lingering. It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay.

The yellow glistens. It glistens with various yellows, Citrons, oranges and greens.Flowering over the skin.

One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow

After the final no there comes a yes. And on that yes the future world depends.

How full of trifles everything is! It is only one's thoughts that fill a room with something more than furniture.

Day after day, throughout the winter, We hardened ourselves to live by bluest reason In a world of wind and frost.

One sparrow is worth a thousand gulls, When it sings. The gull sits on chimney-tops. He mocks the guinea, challenges The crow, inciting various modes. The sparrow requites one, without intent.

The magnificent cause of being, the imagination, the one reality in this imagined world.