"Heaven's ways include the human: among a thousand sorrows, I stand alone."

"I’m so thin, my shadow could slip through a crack in the door."

"The ladle's cast aside, the cup not green, The stove still looks as if a fiery red. To many places, communications are broken, I sit, but cannot read my books for grief."

"My poems are no use—they won’t fill anyone’s stomach."

"My heart is in a world of water and crystal, My clothes are damp in this time of spring rains."