"Teach me the love that is evergreen after the fall leaved/Grave"

"Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night."

"A worm tells summer better than the clock, The slug's a living calendar of days; What shall it tell me if a timeless insect Says the world wears away?"

"My birthday began with the water- Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name Above the farms and the white horses And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days."

"Do not go gentle into that good night"

"Call me Dolores. Like they do in the stories."

"The sloeback, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat bobbing sea"

"The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer"

"Make gentle the life of this world."

"After the first death, there is no other."

"Wales: The land of my fathers. My fathers can have it!"

"This world is half the devil's and my own, / Daft with the drug that's smoking in a girl / And curling round the bud that forks her eye."

"Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon. She did not hear him, but stood over his bed and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow. Hold my hand, he said, and then: why are your putting the sheet over my face?"

"Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea."

"Nothing grows in our garden, only washing. And babies."

"Man be my metaphor’,"

"My birthday began with the water - Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name."

"These poems, with all their crudities, doubts and confusions, are written for the love of man and in Praise of God, and I'd be a damn fool if they weren't."

"Love drips & gathers, but the fallen blood Shall calm her sores..." -Thomas, The Force that through the green fuse drives the flower."

"Before you let the sun in, mind he wipes his shoes."

"One: I am a Welshman; two: I am a drunkard; three: I am a lover of the human race, especially of women."

"I believe in New Yorkers. Whether they've ever questioned the dream in which they live, I wouldn't know, because I won't ever dare ask that question."

"These are but dreaming men. Breathe, and they fade."

"This poem has been called obscure. I refuse to believe that it is obscurer than pity, violence, or suffering. But being a poem, not a lifetime, it is more compressed."