
The Lily
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat’ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
William Blake

The Lily
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat’ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
William Blake

“Turtles always strike me as devastatingly serious.
If turtles could talk, I’d believe everything they said.” — Erin O’Brien
“And the turtles, of course all the turtles are free, as turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.”
— Dr. Seuss

Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers – and never succeeding.
— Gian Carlo Menotti

“The steady buzzzzzzz of the Katydid chorus,
the bass solo of the croaking Frog,
the steady woof-woof-woof a barking Dog –
a summer night’s serenade.”
– Michael P. Garofalo

“Love is the bridge between you and everything.” ― Jalal al-Din Rumi

“Men build too many walls and not enough bridges.” ― Joseph Fort Newton

More Strong than Time
Victor Hugo
Since I have set my lips to your full cup, my sweet,
Since I my pallid face between your hands have laid,
Since I have known your soul, and all the bloom of it,
And all the perfume rare, now buried in the shade;
Since it was given to me to hear on happy while,
The words wherein your heart spoke all its mysteries,
Since I have seen you weep, and since I have seen you smile,
Your lips upon my lips, and your eyes upon my eyes;
Since I have known above my forehead glance and gleam,
A ray, a single ray, of your star, veiled always,
Since I have felt the fall, upon my lifetime’s stream,
Of one rose petal plucked from the roses of your days;
I now am bold to say to the swift changing hours,
Pass, pass upon your way, for I grow never old,
Fleet to the dark abysm with all your fading flowers,
One rose that none may pluck, within my heart I hold.
Your flying wings may smite, but they can never spill
The cup fulfilled of love, from which my lips are wet;
My heart has far more fire than you can frost to chill,
My soul more love than you can make my soul forget.

“He that would make his own liberty secure, must guard even his enemy from
oppression; for if he violates this duty, he establishes a precedent that will reach to himself.”
Thomas Paine

“Answer July—
Where is the Bee—
Where is the Blush—
Where is the Hay?
Ah, said July—
Where is the Seed—
Where is the Bud—
Where is the May—
Answer Thee—Me—”
– Emily Dickinson, Answer July

The Future
Rainer Maria Rilke
The future: time’s excuse
to frighten us; too vast
a project, too large a morsel
for the heart’s mouth.
Future, who won’t wait for you?
Everyone is going there.
It suffices you to deepen
the absence that we are.