“Love! Love until the night collapses!”

Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth’s pure death the will to sprout.

There is no space wider than that of grief.

Poetry is an act of peace.

Perhaps the earth can teach us As when everything seems dead And later proves to be alive.

Hate is like a swordfish, working through water invisibly and then you see it coming with blood along its blade, but transparency disarms it.

In the eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.”

Love is not about property, diamonds and gifts. It is about sharing your very self with the world around you.

The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading; but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.

All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.

And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.

Every day you play with the light of the universe.

I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Today is today, and yesterday is gone. There is no doubt.

But from each crime are born bullets that will one day seek out in you where the heart lies.

I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Love has to be flowering like the stars, and measureless as a kiss.