Loving a child doesnt mean giving in to all his whims to love him is to bring out the best in him, to teach him to love what is difficult. – Nadia Boulanger
The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious, the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories. – Margaret Walker
Diseases crucify the soul of man, attenuate our bodies, dry them, wither them, rivel them up like old apples, make them as so many Anatomies. – Robert Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy
