“Mere air, these words, but delicious to hear.”

The moon has set In a bank of jet That fringes the Western sky, The pleiads seven Have sunk from heaven And the midnight hurries by; My hopes are flown And, alas! alone On my weary couch I lie.

Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping desolate mountains, uprooting oaks.

Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.

Death must be an evil and the gods agree; for why else would they live for ever?

Love – bittersweet, irrepressible – loosens my limbs and I tremble.

Death is an evil; the gods have so judged; had it been good, they would die.

With his venom irresistible and bittersweet that loosener of limbs, Love reptile-like strikes me down

He who is fair to look upon is good, and he who is good will soon be fair also.

Some say an army of horsemen, or infantry, A fleet of ships is the fairest thing On the face of the black earth, but I say It’s what one loves.

How love the limb-loosener sweeps me away.

Experience shows us Wealth unchaperoned by Virtue is never an innocuous neighbor.

Hesperus bringing together All that the morning star scattered.

The moon is setand the Pleiades; Middle ofthe night, time passes by,I lie alone.

Builders, raise the ceiling high, Raise the dome into the sky, Hear the wedding song! For the happy groom is near, Tall as Mars, and statelier, Hear the wedding song!

Without warning as a whirlwind swoops on an oak Love shakes my heart.

The evening star Is the most beautiful of all stars.

I huff and puff and struggle with every sentence, paragraph and page – sometimes every word as well.

Never make fun of someone isf they mispronounce a word. It means they learned it by reading.

It is commonly thought that everything that is can be put into words.

A man who owns a dog is, in every sense of the words, its master; the term expresses accurately their mutual relations. But it is ridiculous when applied to the limited possession of a cat.

There is a song of Gainsbourg that Jane Birkin sang, and the words are beautiful in French. It says, “Le jeu et les moi.” It’s impossible to translate, because it has a very nice sound.

An appreciation of words is so rare that everybody naturally thinks he possesses it, and this universal sentiment results in the misuse of a material whose beauty enriches the loving student beyond the dreams of avarice.

One can’t measure the life with its bitterness but with it’s sweetness and sweetness is what one must find in Jesus Words.

Her soul belongs to words and books. Every time she reads, she is home.