I am still of [the] opinion that only two topics can be of the least interest to a serious and studious mood — sex and the dead. - William Butler Yeats

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

- The Song of Wandering Aengus

Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.

I hate journalists. There is nothing in them but tittering jeering emptiness. They have all made what Dante calls the Great Refusal, — that is they have ceased to be self-centered, have given up their individuality.... The shallowest people on the ridge of the earth.