He Is Short-sighted Who Looks Only On

Extreme Torture Is Mute, And So We Sat Silent, Petrified, Like Columns Of Marble Buried Under The Sand Of An Earthquake. Neither Wished To Listen To The Other Because Our Heart-threads Had Become Weak And Even Breathing Would Have Broken Them.

Why Dispute What We Shall Be, When We Know Not Even What We Are.

And When You Crush An Apple With Your Teeth, Say To It In Your Heart: Your Seeds Shall Live In My Body, And The Buds Of Your Tomorrow Shall Blossom In My Heart, And Your Fragrance Shall Be My Breath, And Together We Shall Rejoice Through All The Seasons.

You May Forget With Whom You Laughed, But You Will Never Forget With Whom You Wept.

If Your Heart Is A Volcano, How Shall You Expect Flowers To Bloom?