One sweet, sad secret holds my heart in thrall;
A mighty love within my breast has grown,
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One sweet, sad secret holds my heart in thrall;
A mighty love within my breast has grown,
Unseen, unspoken, and of no one known;
And of my sweet, who gave it, least of all.
[Fr., Ma vie a son secret, mon ame a son mystere:
Un amour eternel en un moment concu.
La mal est sans remede, aussi j'ai du le taire,
Et elle qui l'a fait n'en a jamais rien su.]

Prose--words in their best order;--poetry--the best words in
their best order.

Prose--words in their best order;--poetry--the best words in
their best order.

The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.

The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.

There are no guarantees. From the viewpoint of fear, none are strong enough. From the viewpoint of love, none are read more

There are no guarantees. From the viewpoint of fear, none are strong enough. From the viewpoint of love, none are necessary.

I consider myself a poet first and a musician second. I live like a poet and I'll die like a read more

I consider myself a poet first and a musician second. I live like a poet and I'll die like a poet.

The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end.

The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end.

But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever.

But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever.

You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving.

You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving.

There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, read more

There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.