The world is not respectable; it is mortal, tormented, confused, deluded forever; but it is shot through with beauty, with love, with glints of courage and laughter; and in these, the spirit blooms.

The impeccable watchmaker geared the noble self to suffer. The ineluctable part of being human is perpetual sorrow, grief, and misery. Suffering is part of living. Life begins joyously and regretfully ends in tragedy. The cold realities of the world triumphantly crush each one of us. Between birth and death is comedic conjugation, the haunting prelude to the end of the self.

The degree in which a poet's imagination dominates reality is, in the end, the exact measure of his importance and dignity

A lot of the world seems to repeat itself

We are more often frightened than hurt; and we suffer more from imagination than from reality.

Reality is a challenge.