My heart, the bird of the wilderness, has found its sky in your eyes. They are the cradle of the morning, they are the kingdom of the stars. My songs are lost in their depths. Let me but soar in that sky, in its lonely immensity. Let me but cleave its clouds and spread wings in its sunshine.

Your idol is shattered in the dust to prove that God's dust is greater than your idol.

I will sit in the pupil of your eyes and that will carry your sight into the heart of the things

The night kissed the fading day With a whisper: "I am death, your mother, From me you will get new birth."

Love's gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.

Love is when the soul starts to sing and the flowers of your life bloom on their own.

No civilized society can thrive upon victims, whose humanity has been permanently mutilated.