may came home with a smooth round stone as small as a world and as large as alone.

hate blows a bubble of despair into hugeness world system universe and bang -fear buries a tomorrow under woe and up comes yesterday most green and young

love is a deeper season than reason; my sweet one

Sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time for springtime is love time and viva sweet love.

Writingis an art; and artistsare human beings. As a human being stands, so a human being is

What time is it? It is by every star a different time, and each most falsely true.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.