“But a Book is only the Heart’s Portrait- every Page a Pulse.”

Beauty is not caused. It is.

If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.

Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.

I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

Celebrity is the chastisement of merit and the punishment of talent.

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.

We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.

Hope never stops at all.

The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more.

You left me boundaries of pain Capacious as the sea, Between eternity and time, Your consciousness and me.

The brain is wider than the sky.

You can stay young as long as you learn.

Forever – is composed of Nows – ‘Tis not a different time. Let Months dissolve in further Months – And Years – exhale in Years.

The poet lights the light and fades away. But the light goes on and on.

You don’t have to be a house to be haunted.

There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.

When I went from girl body to woman body and all of a sudden I had tits and hips and a little tummy and natural fat in places, I freaked out.

It’s not the face, but the expressions on it. It’s not the voice, but what you say. It’s not how you look in that body, but the thing you do with it. You are beautiful.

And I also see how this body influences external images: it gives back movement to them.

We are not these bodies, just souls having a bodily experience.

I know I’m pretty, but I ain’t as pretty as a couple of titties.

I am a thespian trapped in a man’s body.

I’m a boy who appreciates a good body, regardless of the make.

The most beautiful parts of your body are those you had to grow again.