“Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves.”

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.

You are like night, calmed, constellated. Your silence is star-like, as distant, as true.

We can’t win – if we nominate someone – if we nominate someone that half of the Republican Party hates, we’re going to be fighting against each other all the way to November [of 2016]. We will never win that way.

We have to distrust each other. It is our only defense against betrayal.

Somebody must show that the Afro-American race is more sinned against than sinning, and it seems to have fallen upon me to do so.

The political machine triumphs because it is a united minority acting against a divided majority.

Illnesses do not come upon us out of the blue. They are developed from small daily sins against Nature. When enough sins have accumulated, illnesses will suddenly appear.

If we are to be happy, we must first react against our tendency to follow the line of least resistance, a tendency that causes us either to remain as we are, or to look primarily to activities external to ourselves for what will provide new impetus to our lives.

Temptation, if it is not to conquer, must not fall like a bomb against another bomb of instantaneous moral explosions, but against the strong walls of an impregnable fortress strongly built up, stone by stone, beginning at that distant day when the foundations were first laid.

Man is the unnatural animal, the rebel child of nature, and more and more does he turn himself against the harsh and fitful hand that reared him.