Tall windows show Infinity; And, hard reality, The candles weep and pry and dance Like lives mocked at by Chance. The rooms are vast as Sleep within; When once I ventured in, Chill Silence, like a surging sea, Slowly enveloped me.

The busy chatter of the heat Shrilled like a parakeet; And shuddering at the noonday light The dust lay dead and white As powder on a mummy's face, Or fawned w…

Within your magic web of hair, lies furled The fire and splendour of the ancient world; The dire gold of the comet's wind-blown hair; The songs that turned to …

Hot water is my native element. I was in it as a baby, and I have never seemed to get out of it ever since.

The Infinite has to be a relative concept. Go any distance: an infinite space means that there is more to be explored.

If a thing loves, it is infinite.

Sweet are the words of Love, sweeter his thoughts: Sweetest of all what Love nor says nor thinks.