Hands Make The World Each Day.

You Can Cut All The Flowers But You Cannot Keep Spring From Coming.

There Is No Space Wider Than That Of Grief.

She Did Not Speak For Speech Was Unknown To Her.

Whom Can I Ask What I Came To Make Happen In This World? Why Do I Move Without Wanting To, Why Am I Not Able To Sit Still? Why Do I Go Rolling Without Wheels, Flying Without Wings Or Feathers, And Why Did I Decide To Migrate If My Bones Live In Chile?

But From Each Crime Are Born Bullets That Will One Day Seek Out In You Where The Heart Lies.