All Actual Heroes Are Essential

We Can't Separate Our Humanity From Our Poetry.

You Smell A Rose Through A Fence: If Two Should Smell It, What Matter?

A Woman's Pity Sometimes Makes Her Mad.

Alas, I Have Grieved So I Am Hard To Love. Yet Love Me--wilt Thou? Open Thine Heart Wide, And Fold Within, The Wet Wings Of Thy Dove.

My Love For Him Was So Exquisitely Pure That If We All Were Capable Of Giving And Receiving Such A Beautiful Gift The World Would Be A Far More Brilliant Place; I Think We'd All Be Poets.