She was always an odd mixture of maturity and childishness, grown up in her judgment or men and affairs, child-like in her certainties, and most engaging in her entire belief in her father and the vivid intellectual world in which she had been brought up.
~ Janet Courtney (friend) about Gertrude Bell
He knew my secrets, and kept them. That’s a friend!
~ Joseph Demerly about Michael Hake
How to recall such music, when the street
Darkens? Among the rain and stone places
I find only an ancient sadness falling …
The heart in its own endless silence kneeling.
~ Philip Larkin
Light cares can speak, but heavy ones are dumb.
He fears nothing. He sees too far, he sees throughout; such is the only man I wish to see or be.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson about Hafiz
A poet is someone
Who can pour light into a cup,
Then raise it to nourish
Your beautiful parched, holy mouth.
… time, space, and boredom
Are just passing fads.
All your pain, worry, sorrow
Will someday apologize and confess
They were a great lie.