Set me a task in which I can put something of my very self, and it is a task no longer; it is joy; it is art.

I took a day to search for God, And found Him not; but as I trod, By rocky ledge, through woods untamed, Just where one scarlet lily flamed, I saw His footprint in the sod.

I often wish . . . that I could rid the world of the tyranny of facts. What are facts but compromises? A fact merely marks the point where we have agreed to let investigation cease.

Dark alley, near midnight, silent door, loud knock, moment of silence, footsteps groping down stairs, rattle of key in lock, door opened -- and there lamp held high above his head, stands your dark Celtic velvet inspired mystic eloquent refined W.B.Y. himself, the William Blake of this smaller generation.

Thy coming is companionedBy presences of bliss;The rivers and the little leavesAll know how good it is.

Lord of the far horizons,Give us the eyes to seeOver the verge of the sundownThe beauty that is to be.

There is a passion for perfection which you will rarely see fully developed; but you may note this fact, that in successful lives it is never wholly lacking.

There is only one way in the world to be distinguished: Follow your instinct! Be yourself, and you'll be somebody. Be one more blind follower of the blind; and you will have the oblivion you desire.

Thank God for povertyThat makes and keeps us free,That lets us go our unobtrusive way,Glad of the sun and rain,Upright, serene, humane,Contented with the fortune of a day.