Great thoughts in crude, unshapely verse set forth lose half their preciousness, and ever must, unless the diamond with its own rich dust be cut and polished, it seems little worth

What did a few ripples in the flesh matter when, all too soon, now or later, that flesh would be making its return journey to dust?

I would rather be ashes than dust. I would rather be a streaming meteor than a sleepy and permanent planet. I would rather burn out in a blaze of streaming glory than be stifled like dry rot. I shall use my time.

I would rather be ashes than dust.

Just like dust, we settle in this town.

Few people realise the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of the material universe swims.

Taxidermy inhabits a half-life, an underpass between life and death. He is oddly vital, still possessed of an animating force, not as defunct as a corpse yet still nowhere near living. A talisman trapped between escape and dust

Few people realise the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of the material universe swims.

The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece.

This quiet Dust was Gentleman and Lad

Death is a dialogue between the spirit and the dust.

Whoever survives a test, whatever it may be, must tell the story. That is his duty.

We’re constantly moving dust from one place to another, only to have it replaced by more dust — entropy always wins.

The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.

Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.

We live on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam

You just have to learn not to care about the dust mites under the beds.

For there is in this world in which everything wears out, everything perishes, one thing that crumbles into dust, that destroys itself still more completely, leaving behind still fewer traces of itself than Beauty: namely Grief.