“unheard and unseen { protected } from the vision of whatwe would look cute togetherreally means words do{ lie } amongst thelols and just kiddings{ hearts } lay awakedreaming nightmares of unicorns ...”

“I write amongst the stars, and the canvased paper moon. I paint the fields of green, sprinkling morning dew. I teach the birds to sing, a tweet, a tweet, times two. And when my busy day is done, I ...”

“Your heart beats between the palm of my hand.Its need to beOne with meDripsBetween my fingertipsAs I squeeze perfect drops of love into small receptacles to be preserved...For later. ”

“Tickle my heart with your pen. Write me for all to read. Bind our love inside a book. Make me your poetry.”

“I don't want what love is. I want what love is supposed to be.”

“Can still windmills, still produce wind? Can a heart still love, when a heart no longer is?”

“...I do come home at Christmas. We all do, or we all should. We all come home, or ought to come home, for a short holiday - the longer, the better - from the great boarding-school, where we are for...”

“He went to the church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and for, and patted the children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of ho...”

“The Christmas presents once opened are Not So Much Fun as they were while we were in the process of examining, lifting, shaking, thinking about, and opening them. Three hundred sixty-five days late...”