"Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars." ☆ ~e. e. cummings
"But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling, like dew, upon a thought produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions think" ~ Lord Byron
"Search for me in the pauses between my words. In the silent moments. That’s where I hide. Look for me beneath the lines of my favorite books. In the between places. That’s where you’ll find me. Read me in the eloquence of my eyes. In the secret stories. That’s where I’ll be"
"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world" ☆ ~ Oscar Wilde
"in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems" ☆ ~ee cummings
"There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not Man the less, but Nature more."
"Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love."
"I am a winged creature who is too rarely allowed to use its wings. Ecstasies do not occur often enough." ~Anaïs Nin
"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent! "
~ Lord Byron
"Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?"
~ Edgar Allan Poe