My great day came and went, I do not know how. Because it did not pass through dawn when it came, nor through dusk when it went. – Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
Love, she said, should be said more slowly, and ran from the house. Words could not catch her as such. Honesty is so slow, that is the trouble. – Author Unknown
Shall I give you my recipe for happiness? I find everything useful and nothing indispensable. I find everything wonderful and nothing miraculous. I reverence the body. I avoid first causes like the plague. – Norman Douglas