“And I hold my head high toward my big entrance, hand in hand with the boy who gave me the moon and the stars.”

“Dance me slowly along a moonlit path,Soaked with light from moon and stars above,Hold my hand and whistle a tune,Dance me slowly to the edge of Love.Waltz here with me on forest grass,Soft ballet pirouettes round sun dappled trees,Hold my hand and hum a tune,Catch my freshly blown kiss off the breeze.”

“I don't see why I should bow my head when I could hold it high, or place it in the hands of my enemies when I can defeat them.”

“What was the golden motto embroidered on the hem of my baby's silk dress? We are kin to stars. I reach my hands toward them, spread my fingers and see those diamonds in the black V's between my fanning fingers. To think that I could gather them into my hands, stuff them in my pockets, is folly. But I can reach. It is I, myself, alive now, who reach into the night toward stars. Their light is on my hands. Their light is in my hands. I gasp in the crisp air of earth and know that I am made of what makes stars! Those atoms are burning bright--I lower my hands--why, they are here within me. I am as old as they and will continue as long as they, and after our demise, we will all be born again, eons from now. What atoms they have I cannot know. I cannot call their names, but they are not strangers to me. I know them in my being, and they know me. Little scrap, little morsel, the stars sing to me, we are the same.”

“Chivalry: It's the little boy that kisses my hand, the young man who holds the door open for me, and the old man who tips his hat to me. None of it is a reflection of me, but a reflection of them.”

“Who says you cannot hold the moon in your hand?Tonight when the stars come out and the moon rises in the velvet sky, look outside your window, then raise your hand and position your fingers around the disk of light.There you go . . . That was easy!”