“The Moon for all her light and graceHas never learned to know her place.”

“One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.”

“I dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago.”

“As it is more blessed to receive, so it must be more blessed to receive than to give back.”

“The old dog barks backward without getting up I can remember when he was a pup.”

“Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.”

“The weary sun hath made a golden setAnd by the bright tract of his fiery carGives token of a goodly day to-morrow.”

“Nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will.”

“I have supped full with horrors.”

“Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.”

“To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.”

“Come, Lady, die to live.”

“Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)”

“With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage.”

“Think, when we talk of horses, that you see themPrinting their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth.”

“The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam,Our arms are waving, our lips are apart.”

“Reading [poetry], you know, is rather like opening the door to a horde of rebels who swarm out attacking one in twenty places at once - hit, roused, scraped, bared, swung through the air, so that life seems to flash by; then again blinded, knocked on the head - all of which are agreeable sensations for a reader (since nothing is more dismal than to open the door and get no response).”