The Appetite For Silence Is Seldom An

If I Read A Book And It Makes My Whole Body So Cold No Fire Can Ever Warm Me, I Know That Is Poetry.

Faith—is The Pierless Bridge Supporting What We See Unto The Scene That We Do Not— Too Slender For The Eye It Bears The Soul As Bold As It Were Rocked In Steel With Arms Of Steel At Either Side— It Joins—behind The Veil To What, Could We Presume The Bridge Would Cease To Be To Our Far, Vacillating Feet A First Necessity.

... I Have No Letter From The Dead, Yet Daily Love Them More.

Banish Air From Air Divide Light If You Dare

Faith Is A Fine Invention When Gentlemen Can See, But Microscopes Are Prudent In An Emergency.