Poetry, like love, is something we never truly say goodbye to.
What a name! Was it love or praise? Speech half-asleep or song half-awake? I must learn Spanish, one of these days, Only for that slow sweet name's sake.
To do good things in the world, first you must know who you are and what gives meaning to your life.
In the first is the last, in thy will is my power to believe.
As is your sort of mind, So is your sort of search: You will find what you desire.
Pleasure must succeed to pleasure, else past pleasure turns to pain