Love Means To Look At Yourself The

Be Young Forever, Seasons Of The Earth.

Irony Is The Glory Of Slaves.

All Was Taken Away From You: White Dresses, Wings, Even Existence.

Under Various Names, I Have Praised Only You, Rivers! You Are Milk And Honey And Love And Death And Dance. From A Spring In Hidden Grottoes, Seeping From Mossy Rocks, Where A Goddess Pours Live Water From A Pitcher, At Clear Streams In The Meadow, Where Rills Murmur Underground, Your Race And My Race Begin, And Amazement, And Quick Passage.

Learning To Believe You Are Magnificent. And Gradually To Discover That You Are Not Magnificent. Enough Labor For One Human Life.