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Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.’

Leonardo Da Vinci

Or are you in your chamber where the shrine
of Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon
Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice?

Khalil Gibran
“A Lover’s Call XXVII”

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn’t keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

Pablo Neruda
“Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines”

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