They say you fall in love. But you don't just fall down, Scraping your knees. Love smacks you Hard Right in the face, Leaving A huge Invisible Bruise All over Your soul.
To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And eternity in an hour.
She tells her love while half asleep, In the dark hours, With half-words whispered low: As Earth stirs in her winter sleep And put out grass and flowers Despite the snow, Despite the falling snow.
What we call the beginning is often the end And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.
Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in.
Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.
Dying Is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.
Let the rain kiss you Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops Let the rain sing you a lullaby The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk The rain makes running pools in the gutter The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night And I love the rain.
For last year's words belong to last year's language And next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.