George Elliott Clarke Quotes
A rural Venus, Selah rises from thegold foliage of the Sixhiboux River, sweepspetals of water from her skin. At once,clouds begin to sob for such beauty.Clothing drops like leaves."No one makes poetry,my Mme.Butterfly, my Carmen, in Whylah,"I whisper. She smiles: "We'll shape it withour souls."Desire illuminates the dark manuscriptof our skin with beetles and butterflies.After the lightning and rain has ceased,after the lightning and rain of lovemakinghas ceased, Selah will dive again into thesunflower-open river.
George Elliott Clarke
Quotes to Explore
Don't you stay at home of evenings? Don't you love a cushioned seat in a corner, by the fireside, with your slippers on your feet?
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
Basically, I want that relationship where we have that love. I love her so much, and she loves me so much that it's just - you want that relationship where you look into the girl's eyes, and you know that she's everything you've ever wanted. When I find that, I'm going to get it!
J. J. Watt
Love one another and help others to rise to the higher levels, simply by pouring out love. Love is infectious and the greatest healing energy.
Sai Baba
If there is anything that keeps the mind open to angel visits, and repels the ministry of ill, it is human love.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
I have never been a material girl. My father always told me never to love anything that cannot love you back.
Imelda Marcos
I don't think, until you've actually lost somebody you really love, that you can go through that door that allows you to be grown-up.
Felicity Kendal
True teaching cannot be learned from text-books any more than a surgeon can acquire his skill by reading about surgery.
Helen Keller
Take advantage of the opportunities that come before you in life.
Ayelet Shaked
No one is good but God alone. What is good is therefore divine, what is divine is therefore good.
Saint Ambrose
Don't try to rush things: for the cup to run over, it must first be filled.
Antonio Machado
A rural Venus, Selah rises from thegold foliage of the Sixhiboux River, sweepspetals of water from her skin. At once,clouds begin to sob for such beauty.Clothing drops like leaves."No one makes poetry,my Mme.Butterfly, my Carmen, in Whylah,"I whisper. She smiles: "We'll shape it withour souls."Desire illuminates the dark manuscriptof our skin with beetles and butterflies.After the lightning and rain has ceased,after the lightning and rain of lovemakinghas ceased, Selah will dive again into thesunflower-open river.
George Elliott Clarke
