Love Begets Love. This Torment

Long Live The Weeds That Overwhelm My Narrow Vegetable Realm! The Bitter Rock, The Barren Soil That Force The Son Of Man To Toil; All Things Unholy, Marred By Curse, The Ugly Of The Universe.

I Bleed My Bones, Their Marrow To Bestowupon That God Who Knows What I Would Know.

The Soul Has Many Motions, Body One.

A Too Explicit Elucidation In Education Destroys Much Of The Pleasure Of Learning. There Should Be Room For Sly Hinters, Masters Of Suggestion.

I Have Come To A Still, But Not A Deep Center, A Point Outside The Glittering Current; My Eyes Stare At The Bottom Of A River, At The Irregular Stones, Iridescent Sandgrains, My Mind Moves In More Than One Place, In A Country Half-land, Half-water. I Am Renewed By Death, Thought Of My Death, The Dry Scent Of A Dying Garden In September, The Wind Fanning The Ash Of A Low Fire. What I Love Is Near At Hand, Always, In Earth And Air.