A poet is a dethroned king sitting among the ashes of his palace trying to fashion an image out of the ashes.
Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.
In vain shall a poet seek the mother of the songs of his heart.
Once I said to a poet, “We shall not know your worth until you die.”
And he answered saying, “Yes, death is always the revealer. And if indeed you would know my worth it is that I have more in my heart than upon my tongue, and more in my desire than in my hand.”
If you sing of beauty though alone in the heart of the desert you will have an audience.
Inspiration will always sing; inspiration will never explain.
We often sing lullabies to our children that we ourselves may sleep.
All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind.
Thinking is always the stumbling stone to poetry.
A great singer is he who sings our silences.
How can you sing if your mouth be filled with food?
How shall your hand be raised in blessing if it is filled with gold?
They say the nightingale pierces his bosom with a thorn when he sings his love song.
So do we all. How else should we sing?
Genius is but a robin's song at the beginning of a slow spring.
Even the most winged spirit cannot escape physical necessity.
A madman is not less a musician than you or myself; only the instrument on which he plays is a little out of tune.
The song that lies silent in the heart of a mother sings upon the lips of her child.
No longing remains unfulfilled.
I have never agreed with my other self wholly. The truth of the matter seems to lie between us.
Your other self is always sorry for you. But your other self grows on sorrow; so all is well.
There is no struggle of soul and body save in the minds of those whose souls are asleep and whose bodies are out of tune.
When you reach the heart of life you shall find beauty in all things, even in the eyes that are blind to beauty.
We live only to discover beauty. All else is a form of waiting.
Sow a seed and the earth will yield you a flower. Dream your dream to the sky and it will bring you your beloved.
The devil died the very day you were born.
Now you do not have to go through hell to meet an angel.
Many a woman borrows a man's heart; very few could possess it.
If you would possess you must not claim.
When a man's hand touches the hand of a woman they both touch the heart of eternity.
Love is the veil between lover and lover.
Every man loves two women; the one is the creation of his imagination, and the other is not yet born.
Men who do not forgive women their little faults will never enjoy their great virtues.
Love that does not renew itself every day becomes a habit and in turn a slavery.
Lovers embrace that which is between them rather than each other.
Love and doubt have never been on speaking terms.
Love is a word of light, written by a hand of light, upon a page of light.
Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity.
If you do not understand your friend under all conditions you will never understand him.
Your most radiant garment is of the other person's weaving;
You most savory meal is that which you eat at the other person's table;
Your most comfortable bed is in the other person's house.
Now tell me, how can you separate yourself from the other person?
Your mind and my heart will never agree until your mind ceases to live in numbers and my heart in the mist.
We shall never understand one another until we reduce the language to seven words.