great men burn bridges before they come to them

Time cannot children,poets,lovers tell- measure imagine,mystery,a kiss -not though mankind would rather know than feel

Let must or if be damned with whomever's afraid down with ought with because with every brain which thinks it thinks, nor dares to feel.

And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air.

we're anything brighter than even the sun

May my heart always be open to little birds, who are the secrets of living. Whatever they sing is better than to know. And if men should not hear them - then men are old.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me), It's always our self we find in the sea.