Harry Kemp Quotes

The poor man is not he who is without a cent, but he who is without a dream.

Where the vast cloudless sky was broken by one crow I sat upon a hill – all alone – long ago; But I never felt so lonely and so out of God’s way, As here, where I brush elbows with a thousand every day.

I pitied him in his blindness But can I boast, “I see?” Perhaps there walks a spirit Close by, who pities me.