If a poet is anybody, he is somebody to whom things made matter very little - somebody who is obsessed by Making.
e. e. cummingsYou have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now; Tired of things that break, andโ Just tired. So am I.
e. e. cummingsLove never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings. Anaรฏs Nin I like not only to be loved, but also to be told I am loved. George Eliot Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star.
e. e. cummings