From The Colour The Nature And By

Quiet This Metal! Let The Manes Put Off Their Terror, Let Them Put Off Their Aqueous Bodies With Fire. Let Them Assume The Milk-white Bodies Of Agate. Let Them Draw Together The Bones Of The Metal.

Usura Slayeth The Child In The Womb It Stayeth The Young Man's Courting It Hath Brought Palsey To Bed, Lyeth Between The Young Bride And Her Bridegroom

A Man Of Genius Has A Right To Any Mode Of Expression.

Install Me In Any Profession Save This Damn'd Profession Of Writing, Where One Needs One's Brains All The Time.

The Garden En Robe De Parade. - Samain Like A Skein Of Loose Silk Blown Against A Wall She Walks By The Railing Of A Path In Kensington Gardens, And She Is Dying Piece-meal Of A Sort Of Emotional Anaemia. And Round About There Is A Rabble Of The Filthy, Sturdy, Unkillable Infants Of The Very Poor. They Shall Inherit The Earth. In Her Is The End Of Breeding. Her Boredom Is Exquisite And Excessive. She Would Like Some One To Speak To Her, And Is Almost Afraid That I Will Commit That Indiscretion.