“Down, wanton, down! Have you no shameThat at the whisper of Love's name,Or Beauty's, presto! up you raiseYour angry head and stand at gaze?Poor bombard-captain, sworn to reachThe ravelin and effect a breach--Indifferent what you storm or why,So be that in the breach you die!Love may be blind, but Love at leastKnows what is man and what mere beast;Or Beauty wayward, but requiresMore delicacy from her squires.Tell me, my witless, whose one boastCould be your staunchness at the post,When were you made a man of partsTo think fine and profess the arts?Will many-gifted Beauty comeBowing to your bald rule of thumb,Or Love swear loyalty to your crown?Be gone, have done! Down, wanton, down!”

“Make us love and obey you so that the works of our hands may always display what your hands have done, until we gaze upon the beauty of your face.”

“There Comes the Strangest MomentThere comes the strangest moment in your life,when everything you thought before breaks free--what you relied upon, as ground-rule and as ritelooks upside down from how it used to be.Skin's gone pale, your brain is shedding cells;you question every tenet you set down;obedient thoughts have turned to infidelsand every verb desires to be a noun.I want--my want. I love--my love. I'll staywith you. I thought transitions were the best,but I want what's here to never go away.I'll make my peace, my bed, and kiss this breast…Your heart's in retrograde. You simply have no choice.Things people told you turn out to be true.You have to hold that body, hear that voice.You'd have sworn no one knew you more than you.How many people thought you'd never change?But here you have. It's beautiful. It's strange.”

“The Bible’s a fine, holy piece of literature and holds a lot of truth. It’s a thing of beauty and wisdom. Problem is, man wrote it down and as ever’one knows, man takes… what’s it called… ‘artistic license.’ That’s my way of thinkin,’ anyhow. You have love in your life and you hang on to it with all you got. Of course, now, the trick of the matter is to know who, or what, you love most so you can hang onto it. That particular bit right there ain’t at all easy, believe me.”

“I think you’re beautiful, the only beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I love your voice and everything to do with you, down to your clothes or the room you are sitting in. I adore you.”

“When You Are Old"WHEN you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.”