“Where were you when my heart was breaking? Will you scream out my name when I am dead and gone?”

“But you have gone now, all of you that were so beautiful when you were quick with life. Yet not gone, for you are still a living truth inside my mind. So how are you dead, my brothers and sisters, and all of you , when you live with me as surely as I live with myself.”

“The Lost TribeHow long, how long must I regret? I never found my people yet; I go about, but cannot find The blood-relations of the mindThrough my little sphere I range, And though I wither do not change; Must not change a jot, lest they Should not know me on my way.Sometimes I think when I am dead They will come about my bed, For my people well do know When to come and when to go.I know not why I am alone, Nor where my wandering tribe is gone, But be they few, or be they far, Would I were where my people are!”

“When tears come, I breathe deeply and rest. I know I am swimming in a hallowed stream where many have gone before. I am not alone, crazy, or having a nervous breakdown . . . My heart is at work. My soul is awake.”

“Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name.”

“I don't understand why I'm not dead. When your heart breaks, you should die”