I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on,
The windows and the stars illumined, one by one,
The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,
And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see
The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass;
And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,
I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,
And build me stately palaces by candlelight.

Charles Baudelaire

What is it inside the imagination that keeps surprising us
At odd moments
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . when something is given back
We didn’t know we had had
In solitude, spontaneously, and with great joy?

Charles Wright

A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.

George Bernard Shaw