May I write words more naked than flesh, stronger than bone, more resilient than sinew, sensitive than nerve.
Whatever one loves most is beautiful.
I took my lyre and said: come now, my heavenly tortoise shell: become a speaking instrument.
All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.
Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
There is no place for grief in a house which serves the Muse.