Love Is The Mystery Between

Love Is The Mystery Between Two People, Not The Identity.

He Knew The World And Its Absurdities As Only An Intelligent Irishman Can; Which Is To Say That Where His Knowledge Or Memory Failed Him, His Imagination Was Always Ready To Fill The Gap.

Each Age, Each Guilty Age, Builds High Walls Around Its Versailles; And Personally I Hate Those Walls Most When They Are Made By Literature And Art.

The Moon Hung Over The Planet Earth, A Dead Thing Over A Dying Thing.

Whole Sight; Or All The Rest Is Desolation.