Love Needs The Stiffening Of Respect, The

All Adventuring Is Rash, And All Innovations Dangerous. But Not Nearly So Dangerous As Stagnation And Dry Rot. From Grooves, Cliques, Clichés And Resignation - Good Lord Deliver Us!

I Would, If I Could, Always Feed To Music. The Singularly Graceless Action Of Thus Filling One's Body With Roots And Dead Animals And Powdered Grain Is Given Some Significance Then. One Can Perform As A Ritual What One Is Shamed To Do As A Utilitarian Action.

I Find You In All Small And Lovely Things; In The Little Fishes Like Flames In The Green Water, In The Furred And Stupid Softness Of Bumble-bees Fat As Laughter, In All The Chiming Radiance Of Warmth And Light And Scent In The Summer Garden.

We Are So Little, So Ignorant, So Feeble An Infant Race Crawling On A Planet Between Immensities We Haven't Even Begun To Understand, That Really We Have No Grounds For Either Congratulation Or Despair.

This Alone Is To Be Feared - The Closed Mind, The Sleeping Imagination, The Death Of The Spirit. The Death Of The Body Is To That, I Think, A Little Thing.