Had any poet adequately described the wretched ugliness of a loved one turned inside out with grief?

It was such a pleasure to sink one's hands into the warm earth, to feel at one's fingertips the possibilities of the new season.

The girl in the mirror caught my eye briefly...It is an uncanny feeling, that rare occasion when one catches a glimpse of oneself in repose. An unguarded moment, stripped of artifice, when one forgets to fool even oneself.

His words had tossed the book that was her life into the air and the pages had been blown into disarray, could never be put back together to tell the same story.

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but little girls usually fared much better.

For it is said, you know, that a letter will always seek a reader; that sooner or later, like it or not, words have a way of finding the light, of making their secrets known.

when you love someone you’ll do just about anything to keep them.