The body knows no pain, not like the soul. At least a nerve has limits, a body part a name. But the soul... the soul... There is no bandage - even crying is in vain.

How can I follow my heart when it's waiting around for the rest of me to make the decision?

We call interconnected order beautiful. When interrupted, we call it chaos.

The only sins are violations of Love.

Poetry absolves spirituality from the dividedness of religions and provides us with a sanctuary that excludes no one.

We can have a World War, I see absolutely no reason why we shouldn't have a World Party.

Ridicule has historically proven itself a rickety fence for great ideas.