“I miss you even in my dreams.”

In light of recent events can you tell me where to find the light?

Music is a different kind of intimacy. So is poetry.

I wonder if you’re thinking of me like I’m thinking of you.

Feelings you could never explain. That’s what poetry is.

Silence is a form of poetry.

The best way to be misunderstood is to care too much.

I’m tired of looking for love in people. I now get my fill from nature.

The loudest voices are often the ones that aren’t heard.

Nostalgia seems to haunt me these days I wonder if it’s old age or just a phase.

You feel like the moonlight, mysteriously dark its blinding.

Poetry, music, and silence.

I’ve chased after sunsets too many times to know how precious time is.

You complete me.

Do not tell me how to feel just because you can’t understand.

Sometimes I get my youth confused with age.

Give me love and I’ll show you unconditional.

Lord please break the laws of the universe for my convenience. Amen.

I have been singing for the last 50 years, you know, so I deserve a break. Besides, there are talented singers around who can do justice to their work.

Being old didn’t seem like an accomplishment. Everyone I knew who was old was like sick or broke. It just didn’t look appealing until I moved to L.A. and started interacting with people who were 50+ and still kicking it, having money, living large.

When you tell someone you love them do you remember loving me.

I wonder what it would be like if I took care of my body as well as I take care of your memory.

I kind of left everyone behind in Australia – all my friends and my family and I had to break up with my boyfriend.

Sometimes a break up breaks us open to love even more.

Maybe we are supposed to break, so that through our cracks our flowers can grow.