Dream, dream, for this is also sooth.
It is so many years before one can believe enough in what one feels even to know what the feeling is
If what I say resonates with you, it's merely because we're branches of the same tree.
No man has ever lived that had enough of children's gratitude or woman's love.
I went out to the hazelwood because a fire was in my head.
Now that my ladder's gone, I must lie down where all my ladders start, In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.