Where words cease, there music begins.

Every period of time is a sphinx that throws itself into the abyss as soon as its riddle has been solved.

The beauteous eyes of the spring's fair night With comfort are downward gazing.

Lyrical poetry is much the same an every age, as the songs of the nightingales in every spring-time.

My heart resembles the ocean; has storm, and ebb and flow; and many a beautiful pearl lies hid in its depths below.

Never let a fool kiss you, or a kiss fool you. Oh, what lies there are in kisses!

Like a great poet, Nature produces the greatest results with the simplest means. These are simply a sun, trees, flowers, water and love.