Defeat Is A Thing Of Weariness, Of

I Shall Never Again Admire A Merely Brave Man.

Tell Me Who Admires And Loves You, And I Will Tell You Who You Are.

Night, When Words Fade And Things Come Alive.

What Was My Body To Me? A Kind Of Flunkey In My Service. Let But My Anger Wax Hot, My Love Grow Exalted, My Hatred Collect In Me, And That Boasted Solidarity Between Me And My Body Was Gone.

Peace Is Present When Things Form Part Of A Whole Greater Than Their Sum, As The Diverse Minerals In The Ground Collect To Become The Tree.