What's in a name? That is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we write the name that we are told is ours.
I'd love to have the whole place swimming in roses
I fear those big words, Stephen said, which make us so unhappy.
The studious silence of the library ... Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness.
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen.
But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.