'Tis a fearful thing
To love
What death can touch.
To love, to hope to dream,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
Love,
But a holy thing
To love what death can touch.
"In my family there was much speaking and much silence. The speaking of words flowed from the speaking of our silences."
"What then is silence?"
"It is being. Spoken language and silence are keys."
"Keys to what?"
"To communion."
"What do you mean by communion?"
"At-oneness. each individual IS a word. As you are a word to me. As we are all words for one another."