How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!

May is much sunshine through small leaves.

Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know.

Art is the desire of a man to express himself, to record the reactions of his personality to the world he lives in.

You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.

When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.

Happiness: We rarely feel it. I would buy it, beg it, steal it, Pay in coins of dripping blood For this one transcendent good.