“The Qu’ran is God’s song, not ours, not even Muhammad’s. To allow such a song to pass through one’s body, however imperfectly, is to discover that the instrument is transformed by the music.”

“I want to read every book that’s writtenhear every song that was sungI want to gaze at every cloudand hold the zing of each fruit on my tongue.”

“May the light be in you forever,May the sun love you and keep you,May the dream make you awaken.For the stars love to shine upon you, And the heavens cry for your loss.May goodness and love flow through you once more,Drink of the light and the love here,Find that we all need you,May your spirit come back across.”

“Some of us hover when we weep for the other who wasdying since the day they were born.”

“And I or you pocketless of a dime, may purchase the pick of the earth.”

“Poetry is the language of the soul;Poetic Prose, the language of my heart.Each line must flow as in a song,and strike a chord that rings forever.To me, words are music!”

“Did I live the spring I’d sought?It’s true in joy, I walked along,took part in dance, and sang the song.and never tried to bind an hourto my borrowed garden bower;nor did I once entreata day to slumber at my feet.Yet days aren’t lulled by lyric song,like morning birds they pass along,o’er crests of trees, to none belong;o’er crests of trees of drying dew,their larking flight, my hands, eschewThus I’ll say it once and true…From all that I saw, and everywhere I wandered,I learned that time cannot be spent,It only can be squandered.”

“…and when the world tells you to lower your head and submit in silence to how things are and always will be, lift your voice instead and sing bravely of how things can and should and will be, because that song is why you are here.”

“Just take my hand, lead, dance with me…and I will simply follow the blueness of the water, the white waves rolling free…where the earth beneath my feet and stars make my heart whole again…in long and priceless moments of shared solitude…”

“If you can sing a song, your sorrow shall fade.”

“A song is the exultation of the mind dwelling on eternal things, bursting forth in the voice.”

“I am not a finished poem, and I am not the song you’ve turned me into. I am a detached human being, making my way in a world that is constantly trying to push me aside, and you who send me letters and emails and beautiful gifts wouldn’t even recognise me if you saw me walking down the street where I live tomorrowfor I am not a poem. I am tired and worn out and the eyes you would see would not be painted or inspiredbut empty and weary from drinking too much at all timesand I am not the life of your party who sings and has glorious words to speakfor I don’t speak muchat alland my voice is raspy and unsteady from unhealthy living and not much sleep and I only use it when I sing and I always sing too muchor not at alland never when people are around because they expect poems and symphonies and I am nota poembut an elegyat my bestbut unedited and uncut and not a lot of people want to work with me because there’s only so much you can do with an audio take, with the plug-ins and EQs and I was born distorted, disordered, and I’m pretty fine with that,but others are not.”

“It’s the smell of him in the bathroom, all I need to get ready for the day. Watching him get dressed, and the sound in the kitchen; a slow hum of a song and his movements, picking things to eat. The way I could observe him, for hours, just go on with his day – or as he sleeps – simply breathing in and out, in and out, and it’s like the hymn that sings me to peace. I know the world is still out there and I know I’m not yet friendly to its pace, but as long as I know him with me, here, there, somewhere – us – I know I have a chance.”

“I’ve tried that love thing for the last time. My heart says no, no! Nobody’s supposed to be here, but you came along and changed my mind”