“In ways that synchronize images, ideas, emotions, sounds, smells, ignorance, and knowledge.”

This is what our love is––a sacred pattern of unbroken unity sewn flawlessly invisible inside all other images, thoughts, smells, and sounds.

What can bombs know of the illuminated fields so golden with heaven in your heart’s sacred lands?

Complications generally begin long before the fated soul carries its dubious light into whatever womb has been kind enough to volunteer

Shine your soul with the same egoless humility as the rainbow and no matter where you go in this world or the next, love will find you, attend you, and bless you.

At some point, a flash of sustained clarity reveals the difference between what someone would have you believe is true,

And make no mistake about it: love does take over and transform the schemes and operations of our egos in a very mighty way.

Happy World Poetry Day: ‘The American identity has never been a singular one and the voices of poets invariably sing, in addition to their own, the voices of those around them.

It takes a lot of beautiful love, uncommon sincerity, and spitfire courage to do that.

When we vote we participate in the construction of a context.

She [Whitney Houston] inherited gifts for skillfully interpreting lyrics and endowing them with new depth and jeweled nuance.

Valentines Day itself, like most holidays in the modern era, has been heavily influenced by commercialism that focuses on the appeal of romantic fantasies.

What more civilized way for people to alleviate the same than by giving themselves to one another as brothers and sisters in deed as well as in word?

You are the hybrids of golden worlds and ages splendidly conceived.

The words ‘I Love You’ kill, and resurrect millions, in less than a second.

A world without poetry and art would be too much like one without birds or flowers: bearable but a lot less enjoyable.

The literary artist lends verbal depth to the visual. The visual artist provides visible articulation for the literary.

There is only one home to the life of a river-mussel; there is only one home to the life of a tortoise; there is only one shell to the soul of man: there is only one world to the spirit of our race. If that world leaves its course and smashes on boulders of the great void, whose world will give us shelter?

A great deal of chaos in the world occurs because people don’t appreciate themselves. Having never developed sympathy or gentleness toward themselves, they cannot experience harmony or peace within themselves, and therefore, what they project to others is also inharmonious and confused.

They have no manners and are woefully unable to deal with any social predicament. Their idea of a celebration is to go to a public house and drink six beers. They are mean, malicious and envious . They are scum.

The body of the Earth, large, sluggish and inapt for motion, is not to be disturbed by movement (especially three movements), any more than the Aetherial Lights [stars] are to be shifted.

Once an interesting idea or theme occurs to me then I would want to write a poem about it. The rest, frankly, is not difficult.

I think the very idea of character, of developing not just grit, but empathy and curiosity, emotional intelligence.

There’s always a backlash against progressive ideas.

I have an idea that the only thing which makes it possible to regard this world we live in without disgust is the beauty which now and then men create out of the chaos. The pictures they paint, the music they compose, the books they write, and the lives they lead.