I wait and ache. I think I am healing.
— Sylvia Plath, Three Women

True poetry forever lasts,
Obdurate 'gainst the years.

— says Ronsard in one of his Pindaric odes

By every man, the moment he is born,
There stands a guardian Dæmon, who shall be His mystagogue through life.

— beautiful fragment from Menander

The symbolic language of the great traditions of mankind may indeed seem arduous and baffling to some minds, but it is nevertheless perfectly intelligible in the light of the orthodox commentaries; symbolism–this point must be stressed–is a real and rigorous science, and nothing can be more naïve than to suppose that its apparent naïvety springs from an immature and “prelogical” mentality. This science, which can properly be described as “sacred,” quite plainly does not have to adjust itself to the modern experimental approach; the realm of revelation, of symbolism, of pure and direct intellection, stands in fact above both the physical and psychological realms, and consequently it lies beyond the scope of so-called scientific methods.

— Frithjof Schuon, The Transcendent Unity of Religions.

Still, they're all alive, the mothers of the heroes, the islands,
Flowering from year to year.

~Hölderlin

I mean that my heart unto yours is knit
So that but one heart we can make of it.
Two bosoms interchainèd with an oath—
So then two bosoms and a single troth.

— from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, Lysander to Hermia