In the life of one man, never The same time returns.

Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think

It's strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words.

In a mind charged with an eager purpose and an unfinished vindictiveness, there is no room for new feelings.

If we really want to pray we must first learn to listen, for in the silence of the heart God speaks.

Poetry is not an assertion of truth, but the making of that truth more fully real to us.

Only by acceptance of the past, can you alter it