He thought that I was after him for a feather--- The white one in his tail: like one who takes everything said as personal to himself.

I am sure I have heard this several times from places I can't recall, but it's not already in the Gaia Quotes database, so I add this profound insight from the fields of psychological healing and spiritual evolution. It sure has helped me.

Lovers, forget your love And list to the love of these She a window flower And he a winter breeze.

The only way round is through.

Time and tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of 30.

The question that he frames in all but words is what to make of a diminished thing.

I could define poetry this way: it is that which is lost out of both prose and verse in translation.