“supposeLife is an old man carrying flowers on his head.”

“i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)”

“And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apartI carry your heart [ i carry it in my heart ]”

“since the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid”

“Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.”

“Lessons hide in his wrinkles. Bells ding in the oldness of eyes. Did he by, any chance, tell children that there are such monstrous things as peace and goodwill...a corrupter of youth no doubt...”

“in a middle of a roomstands a suicidesniffing a Paper rosesmiling to a self"somewhere it is Spring and sometimespeople are in real:imaginesomewhere real flowers,butI can't imagine real flowers for if Icould,they would somehownot Be real"(so he smilessmiling)"but I will noteverywhere be real toyou in a moment"The is blondwith small hands"& everything is easierthan I had guessed everything wouldbe;even remembering the way wholooked at whom first,anyhow dancing”