“Parting they seemed to tread upon the air, Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart Only to meet again more close.”

The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!

As the Swiss inscription says: “Speech is silvern, Silence is golden;” or, as I might rather express it, Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.

I don’t need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever.

And when thou art weary I’ll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.

A hope beyond the shadow of a dream.

I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.

I want a brighter word than bright.

I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.

Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine?

The air is all softness.

If something is not beautiful, it is probably not true.

I wish to believe in immortality-I wish to live with you forever.

There is nothing stable in the world; uproar’s your only music.

Health is the greatest of blessings – with health and hope we should be content to live.

Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity.

When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.

If there is poetry in my book about the sea, it is not because I deliberately put it there, but because no one could write truthfully about the sea and leave out the poetry.

Let us leave a splendid legacy for our children…let us turn to them and say, this you inherit: guard it well, for it is far more precious than money…and once destroyed, nature’s beauty cannot be repurchased at any price.

I know I’m never as good or bad as one single performance. I’ve never believed in my critics or my worshippers, and I’ve always been able to leave the game at the arena.

As I hold on to pain, I think of you. And with hope, I smile,  maybe one day this heaviness will leave you too.

We were in the shadow of the mountains, the light was cool and quiet and no wind was stirring. The aspen trunks were slightly greenish and the leaves were a vibrant yellow.

If you leave you leaving the best, so you would have to settle for less.

You know, honey, husbands come and go but I’m still Cher at the end of the day.

Words are like Leaves; and where they most abound, Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.