Thankfulness is the tune of angels.

The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.

Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.

She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.

So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought; Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.

I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.

All for love, and nothing for reward.

Be bold, and everywhere be bold.

For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

Men, when their actions succeed not as they would, are always ready to impute the blame thereof to heaven, so as to excuse their own follies.

For whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto an other brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

You can’t leave yet. I’m not finished falling in love with you.

As long as music survives, poetry will never die.

Let us take our tongues and stick them out and waggle them in the wind. Let us walk, loving, let us walk and love, walking along, loving.

My persona is less miserable than a lot of contemporary poetry speakers are.

Everybody's friend is nobody's.

I'm fascinated by diamonds. When I put diamonds on, my hands start to shake.

Feed the musician, and he's out of tune.

Love isn't about what we did yesterday; it's about what we do today and tomorrow and the day after

But I had loved him. A part of me still did. Maybe more than a part of me, because I'm a complete moron.

The fact that Obama is getting criticism from the left and the right might reflect his understanding of the underlying political dynamics.