Soft you day, be velvet soft, My true love approaches, Look you bright, you dusty sun, Array your golden coaches. Soft you wind, be soft as silk My true love is speaking. Hold you birds, your silver throats, His golden voice I'm seeking. Come you death, in haste, do come My shroud of black be weaving, Quiet my heart, be deathly quiet, My true love is leaving.

Each time a dancer moves devoutly or a composer faithfully searches the silence for the veiled melodies, eternity is engaged.

No one can take the place of a friend, no one.

I don't trust anyone who doesn't laugh.

The future is plump with promise.

On the day of your birth, the Creator filled countless storehouses, set aside for your use and yours alone.

A societies needs determines their ethics