I cannot love your weeping poets... - Vita Sackville-West

Usted me ha deslumbrado, le he admirado, le he contemplado y he pensado en usted, en cierto modo le he venerado casi, no me importa reconocerlo, pero eso no es lo mismo que estar enamorada.

I saw within the wheelwright’s shed The big round cartwheels, blue and red; A plough with blunted share; A blue tin jug; a broken chair; And paint in trial patchwork square Slapping up against the wall; The lumber of the wheelwright’s trade, And tools on benches neatly laid, The brace, the adze, the awl;

I always preferre the works of God to the works of man. The works of God, I always felt, were given freely to anyone who could appreciate them, whether millionair or pauper, wheras the works of man were reserved for the millionaires. Unless, indeed, the works of man were sufficient to the man who made them; then, it wouldn't matter what millionaire bought them in after years.