Break a vase, and the love that reassembles the fragments is stronger than that love which took its symmetry for granted when it was whole.
When you get a class reciting some great poems, it'll tear your heart out.
I try to forget what happiness was, and when that don't work, I study the stars.
The English language is nobody's special property.
In Eden who sleeps happiest? The serpent.
The personal vocabulary, the individual melody whose metre is one's biography, joins in that sound, with any luck, and the body moves like a walking, a waking island.