Beauty Is Not Caused. It Is.

There Is A Zone Whose Even Years No Solstice Interrupt - Whose Sun Constructs Perpetual Noon Whose Perfect Seasons Wait - Whose Summer Set In Summer, Till The Centuries Of June And Centuries Of August Cease And Consciousness - Is Noon.

I Died For Beauty But Was Scarce Adjusted In The Tomb, When One Who Died For Truth Was Lain In An Adjoining Room. He Questioned Softly Why I Failed? "for Beauty," I Replied. "and I For Truth, The Two Are One; We Brethren Are," He Said. And So, As Kinsmen Met A Night, We Talked Between The Rooms, Until The Moss Had Reached Our Lips, And Covered Up Our Names.

Beauty Is Not The Cause Of Something, It Is What It Is.

'arcturus' Is His Other Name- I'd Rather Call Him 'star.' It's Very Mean Of Science To Go And Interfere!

When He Tells Us About His Father, We Distrust Him. When He Shows Us His Home, We Turn Away, But When He Confides To Us That He Is Acquainted With Grief, We Listen, For That Also Is An Acquaintance Of Our Own.