The Career Of Flowers Differs From Ours

I Dwell In Possibilities .

To Be Alive──is Power.

I Took My Power In My Hand -- And Went Against The World -- 'twas Not So Much As David -- Had -- But I -- Was Twice As Bold -- I Aimed By Pebble -- But Myself Was All The One That Fell -- Was It Goliath -- Was Too Large -- Or Was Myself -- Too Small?

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

I Would Paint A Portrait Which Would Bring The Tears, Had I Canvas For It, And The Scene Should Be -- Solitude, And The Figures -- Solitude -- And The Lights And Shades, Each A Solitude.