The world needs a wash and a week's rest. - W. H. Auden

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

Before people complain of the obscurity of modern poetry, they should first examine their consciences and ask themselves with how many people and on how many occasions they have genuinely and profoundly shared some experience with another.

"Human "nature" is a nature continually in quest of itself, obliged at every moment to transcend what it was a moment before."