If the poet would avoid pepsis in his patients, his scalpel must be as clean as the surgeon's.
We are plated with piety, not alloyed with it.
Call it the Absolute, the Ideal, Perfection, Sanctity, Decency, or what you will, but strive toward it or you will smother in the morass.
Civilization is the world with its leg asleep.
The milk of human kindness should be brought fresh to the table every morning.
