If love wants you; if you've been melted down to stars, you will love with lungs and gills; with feathers and scales; with warm blood and cold.

The best teacher lodges an intent not in the mind but in the heart.

No one is born just once. If you're lucky, you'll emerge again in someone's arms; or unlucky, wake when the long tail of terror brushes the inside of your skull.

But sometimes the world disrobes, slips its dress off a shoulder, stops time for a beat. If we look up at that moment, it's not due to any ability of ours to pierce the darkness, it's the world's brief bestowal. The catastrophe of grace.

The truth doesn't care what we think of it.

I'm naive enough to think that love is always good no matter how long ago, no matter the circumstances.

Reading a poem in translation is like kissing a woman through a veil.