Do We Mean Love, When We Say

Dying For Dark — And The Darker The Worse. Strange.

How All Becomes Clear And Simple When One Opens An Eye On The Within, Having Of Course Previously Exposed It To The Without, In Order To Benefit By The Contrast.

The Blind Have No Notion Of Time. The Things Of Time Are Hidden From Them Too.

Over, Over, There Is A Soft Place In My Heart For All That Is Over, No, For The Being Over, Words Have Been My Only Loves, Not Many.

I Did Not Want To Write, But I Had To Resign Myself To It In The End.