„Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, but the heart has its beaches, its homeland, and thoughts of its own. Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings, but the heart has its seasons its evenings, and songs of its own“
— Robert Hunter American musician 1941
Song lyrics, (1973), "Eyes of the World"
„The sea, the sea is everything! Its sovereign mass
brings to me atoms of a myriad faraway lands;
Its bright smile animates me in the limpid mornings
And when at the end of day my faith has failed me
My heart echoes the sound of its sorrow in the sands.“
— José Rizal Filipino writer, ophthalmologist, polyglot and nationalist 1861 - 1896
"Mi Retiro", st.6 - translated by Nick Joaquin.
„Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.“
— Rainer Maria Rilke Austrian poet and writer 1875 - 1926
Letters to a Young Poet (1934), Context: No one can advise or help you — no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. Letter One (17 February 1903)
„Woe to the man whose heart has not learned while young to hope, to love — and to put its trust in life!!“
— Joseph Conrad Polish-British writer 1857 - 1924
Victory: An Island Tale, part IV, Ch. 14
— Rabindranath Tagore Bengali polymath 1861 - 1941
The Gardener http://www.spiritualbee.com/love-poems-by-tagore/ (1915), 31
— James Thurber American cartoonist, author, journalist, playwright 1894 - 1961
Cartoon captions, Cartoon caption, The New Yorker (27 July 1935) Borrowing from Blaise Pascal, Pensées, 1670 (published posthumously): ""Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point""
„Water has its moods, flowing or still; it can lure you like a lover, or look as bleak as a broken heart.“
— Patricia A. McKillip American fantasy writer 1948
Winter Rose (1996), Chapter 7, p. 64.