“Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.”

For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing.

Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations.

Someday, somewhere – anywhere, unfailingly, you’ll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.

What does autumn go on paying for with so much yellow money?

Everything is so alive, that I can be alive. Without moving I can see it all. In your life I see everything that lives.

There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.

I love you only because it’s you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.

Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.

Let us forget with generosity those who cannot love us.

The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance.

Give me silence, water, hope. Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.

Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens.

Since we have a good loaf, let us not look for cheesecakes.

Happy the man to whom heaven has given a morsel of bread without laying him under the obligation of thanking any other for it than heaven itself.

Cicely Tyson was my inspiration to become an actor.

Give them bread and circuses and they will never revolt.

Independent bread alone can redeem woman from her curse of subjection to man.

There is not a woman born who desires to eat the bread of dependence, no matter whether it be from the hand of father, husband, or brother; for anyone who does so eat her bread places herself in the power of the person from whom she takes it.

The Eucharist prepares us for a place in eternity, because it is the Bread of Heaven.

My piece of bread only belongs to me when I know that everyone else has a share, and that no one starves while I eat.