I enjoy many silent moments with my cat, a conversation always resumed exactly where left off.

If I had my life to live over, I'd have fewer meetings and more rendezvous.

The painter puts brush to canvas, and the poet puts pen to paper. The poet has the easier task, for his pen does not alter his rhyme.

There comes a point in a relationship when you realize that you trust someone enough to let them keep their secrets.

In the end, no thought is unthinkable, no problem unshrinkable, no two strangers unlinkable.

Eventually soulmates meet, for they have the same hiding place.

Where the loser saw barriers, the winner saw hurdles.