Satan, Really, Is The Romantic Youth Of

As You Are Now So Once Were We.

The Supreme Question About A Work Of Art Is Out Of How Deep A Life Does It Spring.

If It Is Thus, I Ask Emphatically Whence Comes This Thusness.

Like The Tender Fires Of Stars Moments Of Their Life Together, That No One Knew Of Or Would Ever Know Of, Broke Upon And Illuminated His Memory.

Every Bond Is A Bond To Sorrow.