“Every poem is a coat of arms. It must be deciphered. How much blood, how many tears in exchange for these axes, these muzzles, these unicorns, these torches, these towers, these martlets, these seedlings of stars and these fields of blue!”
“How much blood will it take to make them stop? How many more children must die?”
“On and on the rain will fall, Like tears from a star, like tears from a star On and on the rain will say, How fragile we are how fragile we are”
“How many times must hope die before tears were too deep to bear?”
“No matter how much money he'd been offered or how many glittering stars had requested duets, he hadn't sung for them.But he'd sung for me.”
“If one who looked from a tower for a new star, watching for years the same part of the sky, suddenly saw it (quite by chance while thinking of other things), and knew it for the star for which he had hoped, how many millions of men would never care?”