I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
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Pablo Neruda
It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.
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Virginia Woolf
Sweetest smile is made saddest tear-drop!
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Edwin Arnold
The true poem rests between the words.
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Vanna Bonta
Sometimes he did not know if he slept or just thought about sleep.
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Mark Strand
More Quotes By Portia Nelson
Chapter One of My Life. I walk down the street. There's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>I am lost. I am helpless. It isn't my fault. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>It still takes forever to find a way out. Chapter Two....
Any day of the week I would choose to be "out" with others and in touch with myself... then to be "in" with others and out of touch with myself.
I am astounded at how long it takes to discover... for the first time, the things I have learned... over and over again all my life.
