Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate; all that was once so beautiful is dead.

Variations: II Green light, from the moon, Pours over the dark blue trees, Green light from the autumn moon Pours on the grass ... Green light falls on the goblin fountain Where hesitant lovers meet and pass. They laugh in the moonlight, touching hands, They move like leaves on the wind ... I remember an autumn night like this, And not so long ago, When other lovers were blown like leaves, Before the coming of snow.

[At a musical concert:] . . . the music's pure algebra of enchantment.

I think there's an enormous lot of talent around, and somewhere amongst these I'm sure that something will emerge, given time.

It's time to make love, douse the glim; The fireflies twinkle and dim; The stars lean together Like birds of a feather, And the loin lies down with the limb.

Separate we come, and separate we go, And this be it known, is all that we know.

I'm afraid I wasn't much of a student, but my casual reading was enormous.