“A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.”

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.

The roots below the earth claim no rewards for making the branches fruitful.

Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark.

Love's gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.

The mountain remains unmoved at its seeming defeat by the mist.

I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.

Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come.

Depth of friendship does not depend on length of acquaintance.