One's not half two. It's two are halves of one.

Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable.

Must's a schoolroom in the month of may

Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)

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

Do not hate or fear the artist in yourselves... Honor and love him...do not try to possess him. Trust him as nobly as you trust tomorrow. Only the artist in yourself is more truthful than the night.

in time of daffodils(who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why,remember how in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so(forgetting seem) in time of roses(who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if,remember yes in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek(forgetting find) and in a mystery to be (when time from time shall set us free) forgetting me,remember me