“Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.”

Humor is also a way of saying something serious.

There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet

Only by acceptance of the past, can you alter it

An election is coming. Universal peace is declared and the foxes have a sincere interest in prolonging the lives of the poultry.

Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.

What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.

Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers.

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice.

Distracted from distraction by distraction

I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

Most of the evil in this world is done by people with good intentions.

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

We must not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we began and to know the place for the first time.

For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.

This is the way the world ends not with a bang but a whimper.

More and more, I feel the need for a house and a garden.

Love is wild; its whole beauty is in its wildness. It comes like a breeze with great fragrance, fills your heart, and suddenly where there was a desert there is a garden full of flowers.

Silence is the garden of thought.

Love would never be a promise of a rose garden unless it is showered with light of faith, water of sincerity and air of passion.

A single rose can be my garden – a single friend, my world.

The garden of the world has no limits, except in your mind.

I wake up some mornings and sit and have my coffee and look out at my beautiful garden, and I go, Remember how good this is. Because you can lose it.

Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same.