Habit Is Heaven's Own Redress: It Takes

I Have Outlasted All Desire, My Dreams And I Have Grown Apart; My Grief Alone Is Left Entire, The Gleamings Of An Empty Heart. The Storms Of Ruthless Dispensation Have Struck My Flowery Garland Numb, I Live In Lonely Desolation And Wonder When My End Will Come. Thus On A Naked Tree-limb, Blasted By Tardy Winter's Whistling Chill, A Single Leaf Which Has Outlasted Its Season Will Be Trembling Still.

Thank You, Darling, For Learning To Play Chess. It Is An Absolute Necessity For Any Well Organized Family. (in A Letter To His Wife)

Love Passed, The Muse Appeared, The Weather Of Mind Got Clarity New-found; Now Free, I Once More Weave Together Emotion, Thought, And Magic Sound.

Somewhere Between Obsession And Compulsion Is Impulse.

Sad That Our Finest Aspiration, Our Freshest Dreams And Meditations, In Swift Succession Should Decay, Like Autumn Leaves That Rot Away.