“Forever is composed of nows.”
He ate and drank the precious words, His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was dust. He danced along the dingy days, And this bequest of wings Was but a book. What liberty A loosened spirit brings!
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“Forever is composed of nows.”
“Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words And never stops at all.”
“If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry.”
“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.”
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