Wallace Stevens:

The honey of heaven may or may not come,
But that of earth both comes and goes at once.
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The walker in the moonlight walked alone,
And in his heart his disbelief lay cold.
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And apt in versatile motion, touch and sound
To make the body covetous in desire
Of the still finer, more implacable chords.
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The pillars are prostate, the arches are hag-
gard
The hotel is boarded and bare.
Yet the panorama of despair
Cannot be the speciality
Of this ecstatic air.
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A little different from reality:
The difference that we make in what we see.
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Under the white clouds piled and piled
Like gathered-up forgetfulness,
In sleeping air.
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...not balances that we achieve but balances that happen
As a man and woman meet and love forthwith.

Other things:

Oserons-nous donc dire que cet avantage de la raison, de quoi nous faisons tant de fete, et pour le respect duquel nous nous tenons maitres et empereurs du rest des creatures, ait ete mis en nous pour notre tourment?
--Montaigne (48)

Men are children. They must be pardoned for everything, except malice.
--Joseph Joubert