I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.

Better a sparrow, living or dead, than no birdsong at all.

I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.

What a woman says to an eager lover, write it on running water, write it on air.

I hate and love. You ask, perhaps, how can that be? I know not, but I feel the agony.

Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then a thousand more.

Stop wishing to merit anyone's gratitude or thinking that anyone can become grateful.