There is no holier spot of ground than where defeated valor lies by mourning beauty crowned

Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns Its fragrant lamps, and turns Into a royal court with green festoons The banks of dark lagoons.

Each has its lesson; for our dreams in sooth, come they in shape of demons, gods, or elves, are allegories with deep hearts of truth that tell us solemn secrets of ourselves.

Ah me! why may not love and life be one?

Spring is a true reconstructionist.

I am a very unhappy human being and you, dearest, simply had to be summoned to create an equilibrium for all this misery.

A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us.

My rhyming skills got you climbing hills, I'll travel through your mind into your spine like siren drills.

I'm not cutthroat. I'm Midwestern.

It means to educate myself incessantly about the world around me.

I try and open a few doors to the mind, encourage people to embrace change and to stretch their capabilities.

I have known the fruits of strikes. The bitter and the sweet. Hunger and music.

I heard the call to give up all and follow Christ into the slums to serve Him among the poorest of the poor. It was an order.

Nothing replaces being in the same room, face to face, breathing the same air and reading and feeling each other's micro-expressions.

My skin is hard when it comes to my music. But with my movies, I'm still a virgin in a lot of ways. I'm not used to being shot down for no reason.