My heart has become as hard as a city street, the horses trample upon it, it sings like iron, all day long and all night long they beat, they ring like the hooves of time. — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
The wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams, the eternal asker of answers, stands in the street, and lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain. — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
It is moonlight. Alone in the silence I ascend my stairs once more, While waves remote in pale blue starlight Crash on a white… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
“It was gentler here, softer, its seethe the quietest of whispers, as if, in deference to a drawing room, it had quite deliberately put… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
One cricket said to another - come, let us be ridiculous, and say love! love love love love love let us be absurd, woman,… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
I began by doing book reviews on the typewriter and then went over to short stories on the machine, meanwhile sticking to pencil for… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
“And the mist of snow, as he had foreseen, was still on it - a ghost of snow falling in the bright sunlight, softly… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
I think it's very useful to be insulated from your surrounds, because it gives you your inviolate privacy, without pressures, so that you can… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
The wind shrieks, the wind grieves; It dashes the leaves on walls, it whirls then again; And the enormous sleeper vaguely and stupidly dreams… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
Death is never an ending, death is a change; Death is beautiful, for death is strange; Death is one dream out of another flowing. — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
As poetry is the highest speech of man, it can not only accept and contain, but in the end express best everything in the… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
