Butterflies...flowers that fly and all but sing.

Something we were withholding made us weak, until we found it was ourselves.

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

Nearly everybody is looking for something brave to do. I don't know why people shouldn't write poetry. That's brave.

As it is more blessed to receive, so it must be more blessed to receive than to give back.

I only hope that when I am free, as they are free to go in quest, of the knowledge beyond the bounds of life, it may not seem better to me to rest.

Most of the change we think we see in life is due to truths being in and out of favor.