His face was filled with broken commandments.

And he who gives a child a treat Makes joy-bells ring in Heaven's street, And he who gives a child a home Builds palaces in Kingdom come, And she who gives a baby birth Brings Saviour Christ again to Earth.

Poetry is a mixture of common sense, which not all have, with an uncommon sense, which very few have.

Man's body is faulty, his mind untrustworthy, but his imagination has made him remarkable.

It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.

Love is a flame to set the will on fire

Life, a beauty chased by tragic laughter.