“In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.”

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.

What did the earth teach the trees? How to speak to the sky.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.

Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss.

As if you were on fire from within. The moon lives in the lining of your skin.

I love you as one loves certain dark things.

I move in the university of the waves.

We are dust and to dust return. In the end we’re neither air, nor fire, nor water, just dirt, neither more nor less, just dirt, and maybe some yellow flowers.

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.

So I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.

I am a book of snow, a spacious hand, an open meadow, a circle that waits, I belong to the earth and its winter.

To feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things.

Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.

To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

So I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.

It doesn’t matter what blood or race or creed or color. Love is love and it breaks all boundaries and you just see it right away.

Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.

My family has never been there for me. They expect things because we’re blood.

Liberty and democracy become unholy when their hands are dyed red with innocent blood.

In the house of poetry nothing endures that is not written with blood to be heard with blood.

What is history but the story of how politicians have squandered the blood and treasure of the human race?

Never take your eyes off the cash flow because it’s the life blood of business.