For I am bound with fleshly bands, Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope; I strain my heart, I stretch my hands, And catch at hope.

In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.

Can anything be sadder than work left unfinished? Yes, work never begun.

Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing.

Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love Divine; Love was born at Christmas; Star and angels gave the sign.

Be the green grass above me, with showers and dewdrops wet; and if thou wilt, remember, and if thou wilt, forget.

We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?

My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit.

Choose love not in the shallows but in the deep.

What is the beginning? Love. What is the course. Love still. What the goal. The goal is love.

Silence is more musical than any song.

All things, even the deepest sorrow or the most profound happiness are all temporary. Hope is fuel for the soul, without hope, forward motion ceases.

In the distance, mongrel dogs were howling out the coyote portion of their ancestry. All the sounds of the night seemed to pass through a hollow tunnel of indefinite length.

94% of psychotics think they're sane, so I guess we must ask ourselves, what is sane?" ~Castiel

I've met Nicole Kidman, Elton John, loads of people.

Take time to get to know people. Understand where they are coming from, what is important to them. Make sure they are with you.

By the way, food and rent aren't the only things around here that cost money. You sleep on the couch.

I wandered through the stacks, running my hands along the spines of the books on the shelves, they reminded me of cultured or opinionated guests at a wonderful party, whispering to each other.

I always entreat the good Lord to give me my childhood back, that is to say, to grant that I may see nature and render it like a child, without prejudice.

I don't consider devotion to the past a form of snobbery. Just one of the more disastrous forms of unrequited love.

Factory windows are always brokenOther windows are let alone.No one throws through the chapel-windowThe bitter, snarling, derisive stone.