It may not be written in any book, but it is written - You can't go back, you can't repeat the unrepeatable.

It’s up there, and you can see the front of it. But what it is isn’t what you’re looking at. It’s behind what you’re looking at.

November’s a burn and an ache.

It's linkage I'm talking about, and harmonies and structures, And all the various things that lock our wrists to the past.

It may not be written in any book, but it is written - You can't go back, you can't repeat the unrepeatable.

If you want great tranquility/ It's hard work and a long walk

How many times can summer turn to fall in one life?