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

Feet sandaled with dreams tread paths of vision leading to wisdom’s sharp peaks.

Here are lips of flame eager to be extinguished by love's liquid sigh.

The death of a dream can in fact serve as the vehicle that endows it with new form, with reinvigorated substance, a fresh flow of ideas, and splendidly revitalized color. In short, the power of a certain kind of dream is such that death need not indicate finality at all but rather signify a metaphysical and metaphorical leap forward.

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

I called it a baptism in flaming ink that forced me to shed my shyness about recognizing myself as a poet and to accept the fact that life had never given me any choice in the matter. And then I had to discover exactly what that meant.

In your hands winter is a book with cloud pages that snow pearls of love.