Date: 1929

"Such fullness in that quarter overflows / And falls into the basin of the mind / That man is stricken deaf and dumb and blind, / For intellect no longer knows / Is from the Ought, or Knower from the Known."

— Yeats, W. B. (1865-1939)

Date: November, 1930

"What's in your mind, my dove, my coney; / Do thoughts grow like feathers, the dead end of life; / Is it making of love or counting of money, / Or raid on the jewels, the plans of a thief?"

— Auden, W. H. (1907-1973)

Date: 1931

"My Waxen heart, when near the Flame, / Yields to th' imprinted mould" but "hardens in the Cold"

— Tickell, Thomas (1685-1740)

Date: w. 1936, 1938

"The year plunges into night / and the heart plunges / lower than night // to an empty, windswept place / without sun, stars or moon / but a peculiar light as of thought // that spins a dark fire-- / whirling upon itself until, / in the cold, it kindles // to make a man aware of nothing / that he...

— Williams, William Carlos (1883-1963)

Date: 1936

"The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews."

— Auden, W. H. (1907-1973)

Date: 1936

"Lids closed, the eyes are watchful; the brain / carefully stalks the thought like a tiger / following the accurately-scented prey / through tangled jungle foliage."

— Edwin Rolfe (1909-1954)

Date: 1936

"The way / to certainty is charted now, / the sensitive ears alive to sound, / antennae poised for touch, and in the head / all tissue quivering like violin strings."

— Edwin Rolfe (1909-1954)

Date: 1937

"Figure on her waxen mind / Images of life refin'd."

— Philips, Ambrose (1674-1749)

Date: 1937

"Make [her mind], as a garden gay, / Every bud of thought display, / Till, improving year by year, / The whole culture shall appear,"

— Philips, Ambrose (1674-1749)

Date: 1938

"Listen, kids who die-- / Maybe, now, there will be no monument for you / Except in our hearts / Maybe your bodies’ll be lost in a swamp / Or a prison grave, or the potter’s field, / Or the rivers where you’re drowned like Leibknecht / But the day will come-- / Your are sure yourselves that it is...

— Hughes, Langston (1902-1967))