Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.” “Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself. To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving

Only once have I been made mute. It was when a man asked me, 'Who are you?'

A look which reveals inward stress adds more beauty to the face, no matter how much tragedy and pain it bespeaks; but the face which, in silence, does not announce hidden mysteries is not beautiful, regardless of the symmetry of its features.

Trickery succeeds sometimes, but it always commits suicide.

The eye of a human being is a microscope, which makes the world seem bigger than it really is.

I purified my lips with sacred fire that I might speak of love, but when I opened my mouth to speak, I found myself mute.

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.