“The lovely flowersembarrass me.They make me regretI am not a bee...”
“Bee, why are you staring at me? I am not a flower??”
“To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,One clover, and a bee,And revery.The revery alone will do,If bees are few.”
“I am not a part of this home any longer. I am a tiny thing created by indifferent scientists. I am an experiment, a mechanical bee placed near the hive. The real bees were happy being bees until I came along and gave them all the false information that destroyed their little lives.”
“I am the broth of love. Make soup to me.”
“I understood finally that the thing Ishould have feared most was not loss, butnever loving. The price for safety was the regretI felt at this moment. And yet I wouldhave to live with it for the rest of my life”