Your strength is soft, indirect, delicate, tender, womanly. But it is strength just the same.

Will you come down and kiss me good night?

Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through.

I prefer by far the warmth and softness to mere brilliancy and coldness. Some people remind me of sharp dazzling diamonds. Valuable but lifeless and loveless. Others, of the simplest field flowers, with hearts full of dew and with all the tints of celestial beauty reflected in their modest petals.

There is a fissure in my vision and madness will always rush through.

The way to recognize a dead word is that it exudes boredom.

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.