someday i will walk under the soul-blossom tree with my hand eternally woven in yours.

The splendid thingabout falling apartsilently...is thatyou can start overas many timesas you like.

even in the loneliest momentsi have been therefor myself.

some winterswill never meltsome summerswill never freezeand some things will only... live in poems.

...so i will greet youin a wayall loved thingsare meant to be greetedwith a tear in my heartand a poem in my eye.

i have laughedmore than daffodilsand cried more than June.

your handtouching mine.this is howgalaxiescollide.

To fall in love with someone's thoughts - the most intimate, splendid romance.

the intensityin your eyesburns my penas i write.

lean in to kiss mein all the placeswhere the acheis the most special.

i writebecauseit is the only wayi can reach you.

Who are you? No really. Way, way down deep. Who are you?

At the moment of vision, the eyes see nothing.

A part of them has grown very attached to a certain way of life.

That was my favorite dagger." She had a favorite dagger? Seriously? And she thought that I was a freak.

But I'm a rock 'n' roll singer; that's my livelihood, my occupation.

If you work hard and you play well, all those critics quiet themselves pretty quickly.

...there are no natural borderlines in evolution. The illusion of a borderline is created by the fact that the evolutionary intermediates happen to be extinct.

It's amazing how resourceful you can become when you're in the middle of the ocean and there's only one way to get to the other side.

I myself have noticed my growing resemblance to a daffodil.