The Number Of People Who

Let Him Be Wise, Or Let Me Be Blind; Don't Let Me, She Hoped Concretely, Don't Let Me Know Too Surely What He Thinks Of Me.

Today My Winged Horse Is Coming And I Am Carrying You Off To The Moon And On The Moon We Will Eat Rose Petals.

No Live Organism Can Continue For Long To Exist Sanely Under Conditions Of Absolute Reality; Even Larks And Katydids Are Supposed, By Some, To Dream. Hill House, Not Sane, Stood By Itself Against Its Hills, Holding Darkness Within; It Had Stood So For Eighty Years And Might Stand For Eighty More. Within, Walls Continued Upright, Bricks Met Neatly, Floors Were Firm, And Doors Were Sensibly Shut; Silence Lay Steadily Against The Wood And Stone Of Hill House, And Whatever Walked There, Walked Alone.

All I Could Think Of When I Got A Look At The Place From The Outside Was What Fun It Would Be To Stand Out There And Watch It Burn Down.

It Might Be Suggested, And Not Easily Disproven That Anything, No Matter How Exotic, Can Be Believed By Someone. On The Other Hand, Abstract Belief Is Largely Impossible; It Is The Concrete, The Actuality Of The Cup, The Candle, The Sacrificial Stone, Which Hardens Belief; The Statue Is Nothing Until It Cries, The Philosophy Is Nothing Until The Philosopher Is Martyred.