I would die at the stake rather than change a semi-colon!

After all, what is a kiss? A vow made at closer range, a more precise promise, a confession that contains its own proof, a seal placed on a pact that has already been signed; it's a secret told to the mouth rather than to the ear.

I sing, not to hear the echo repeat, a shade fainter, my song! I think of light and not of glory! Singing is my fashion of waging war and bearing witness. And if my song is the proudest of songs, it is that I sing clearly to make the day rise clear!

My soul, be satisfied with flowers, with fruit, with weeds even; but gather them in the one garden you may call your own.

Take it, and turn to facts my fantasies.

Your name hangs in my heart like a bell's tongue.

I would die at the stake rather than change a semi-colon!