镜湖三百里，菡萏发荷花。 — Li Bai

"All the birds have flown up and gone; A lonely cloud floats leisurely by. We never tire of looking at each other— Only the mountain and I."

"Tus poems," she said, "are known for their workmanship and artistic refinement, while Lis poems are known for their freedom and naturalness of expression. I prefer the vivacity of Li Po to the severity of Tu Fu." "Tu Fu is the acknowledged king of poets," said I, "and he is taken by most people as their model. Why do you prefer Li Po?" "Of course," said she, "as for perfection of form and maturity of thought, Tu is the undisputed master, but Li Pos poems have the wayward charm of a nymph. His lines come naturally like falling flowers and flowing water, and are so much lovelier for their spontaneity. I am not saying that Tu is second to Li; only personally I feel, not that I love Tu less, but that I love Li more."

"危楼高百尺，手可摘星辰。 不敢高声语，恐惊天上人。"

"花間一壺酒，獨酌無相親。 舉杯邀明月，對影成三人。 月既不解飲，影徒隨我身。 暫伴月將影，行樂須及春。 我歌月徘徊，我舞影零亂。 醒時同交歡，醉後各分散。 永結無情遊，相期邈雲漢。"

"Li Pos style is swift, yet never careless; lively, yet never informal. But his intellectual outlook was low and sordid. In nine poems out of ten he deals with nothing but wine or women."

"Li Bai could turn sweet nectar into verses fine. Drunk in the capital, hed lie in shops of wine. Even imperial summons proudly hed decline, Saying immortals could not leave the drink divine."