I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! We tire of the flame of the… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
The silence is death. It comes each day with its shock to sit on my shoulder, a white bird, and peck at… — Anne Sexton Copy Share Image
There is no word for time. Today we will not think to number another summer or watch its white bird into the… — Anne Sexton Copy Share Image
Of all created things the source is one, Simple, single as love; remember The cell and seed of life, the sphere That… — Kathleen Raine Copy Share Image
I am haunted by numberless islands, many a Danaan shore, Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
I am obsessed by the idea of silence. I went through an entire library studying art, artists and their critics, philosophers, too,… — Terry Tempest Williams Copy Share Image
