Against the ruin of the world, there is only one defense — the creative act. - Kenneth Rexroth

Do not talk any more. Do not speak.
Do not break silence until
We are weary of each other.
Let our fingers run like steel
Carving the contours of our bodies’ gold.
Do not speak. My face sinks
In the clotted summer of your hair.
The sound of the bees stops.
Stillness falls like a cloud.
Be still. Let your body fall away
Into the awe filled silence
Of the fulfilled summer — Back, back, infinitely away — Our lips weak, faint with stillness.

from “When We with Sappho

You don't become a saint until you lead a good life whether in Tibet or Italy or America.

Man thrives where angels die of ecstasy and pigs die of disgust.