The strongest influences in my life and my work are always whomever I love. Whomever I love and am with read more

The strongest influences in my life and my work are always whomever I love. Whomever I love and am with most of the time, or whomever I remember most vividly. I think that's true of everyone, don't you?

It is easier to influence strong than weak characters in life.

It is easier to influence strong than weak characters in life.

My heart is feminine, nor can forget--
To all, except one image, madly blind;
So shakes the read more

My heart is feminine, nor can forget--
To all, except one image, madly blind;
So shakes the needle, and so stands the pole,
As vibrates my fond heart to my fix'd soul.

Nor knowest thou what argument
Thy like to thy neighbor's creed has lent,
All are needed by read more

Nor knowest thou what argument
Thy like to thy neighbor's creed has lent,
All are needed by each one;
Nothing is fair or good alone.

Even here Thy strong magnetic charms I feel,
And pant and tremble like the amorous steel.
To read more

Even here Thy strong magnetic charms I feel,
And pant and tremble like the amorous steel.
To lower good, and beauties less divine,
Sometimes my erroneous needle does incline;
But yet (so strong the sympathy)
It turns, and points again to Thee.

Our life's a flying shadow, God the pole,
The needle pointing to Him is our soul.

Our life's a flying shadow, God the pole,
The needle pointing to Him is our soul.

Only the very weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry.

Only the very weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry.

If it were in my power, I would be wiser; but a newly felt power
carries me off in read more

If it were in my power, I would be wiser; but a newly felt power
carries me off in spite of myself; love leads me one way, my
understanding another.
[Lat., Si possem sanior essem.
Sed trahit invitam nova vis; aliudque Cupido,
Mens aliud.]

O may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made read more

O may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made better by their presence; live
In pulses stirred to generosity,
In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn
For miserable aims that end with self.
In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,
And with their mild persistence urge man's search
To vaster issues.