Air goes in and out of my nose, throat, lungs, blood, heart brain - and so I am
Sorta Like a Rock StarOf course I want the moon. And, were you to offer it, I'd propose as a trade the stars in my eyes.
Smile Anyway: Quotes, Verse, & Grumblings for Every Day of the YearMan is no star, but a quick coal Of mortal fire: Who blows it not, nor doth control A faint desire,
The Temple: The Poetry of George Herbert