At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language - door and open the love - window. The moon won’t use the door, only the window.
Summer set lip to earth’s bosom bare, and left the flushed print in a poppy there.
Love is the firstborn, loftier than the gods, fathers and men. You, O Love, are the eldest of all, altogether mighty. To you we pay homage!...
True wisdom is less presuming than folly. The wise man doubteth often, and changeth his mind; the fool is obstinate, and doubteth not; he knoweth all things but his own ignorance… To be satisfied with a little, is the greatest wisdom; and he that increaseth his riches, increaseth his cares; but a contented mind is a hidden treasure, and trouble findeth it not.
