“O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!”
“Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!”
“You're an obnoxious canker-blossom. Go ooze somewhere else.”
“O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,How can we know the dancer from the dance?”
“When you plant a seed of love, it is you that blossoms.”
“When you behold an aspect for whose constant gloom and frown you cannot account, whose unvarying cloud exasperates you by its apparent causelessness, be sure that there is a canker somewhere, and a canker not the less deeply corroding because concealed.”