“No honey for me, if it comes with a bee.”

Now the Earth with many flowers puts on her spring embroidery.

The Moon and Pleiades have set, Midnight is nigh, The time is passing, passing, yet Alone I lie.

I would not think to touch the sky with two arms

In gold sandals / dawn like a thief / fell upon me.

What cannot be said will be wept.

Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us.

Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.

Dancing up the full moon Round some fair new altar Trample the soft blossoms of fine grass.

When anger spreads through the breath, guard thy tongue from barking idly.

Whatever one loves most is beautiful.

For some the fairest thing on the dark earth is Thermopylae, And the Spartan phalanx lowering lances to die.

All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.

Would Jove appoint some flower to reign, in matchless beauty on the plain, the Rose (mankind will all agree). The Rose the queen of flowers should be.

If you are squeamish Don’t prod the beach rubble.

I do not know what to do, my mind’s in two.

I will let my body flow like water over the gentle cushions.

Finding that the middle condition of life is by far the happiest, I look with little favor upon that of princes.

I do not conceive of any reality at all as without genuine unity.

The men are much alarmed by certain speculations about women; and well they may be

At least half of your mind is always thinking, I’ll be leaving; this won’t last. It’s a good Buddhist attitude. If I were a Buddhist, this would be a great help. As it is, I’m just sad.

Of all wild beasts on earth or in sea, the greatest is a woman.

Everything depends on liking the people and trusting the people. You have to assume that whatever they do will be as good as you want the thing to be and just go ahead with that.

Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife, / Some pure idea of a noble life / That once seemed possible?

One of the most painful aspects of suffering is the loneliness of it. Others may offer support or empathy, but no one can walk the road to Moriah in our place.