The Soul Is Not A Soul, Has

It Is Because Everything Is Relative That We Shall Never See In That Sphere Of Pure Wisdom And Entertainment Much More Than Groping Shadows Of An Incomplete Former Existence So Close It Burns Like The Mouth That Closes Down Over All Your Effort Like The Moment Of Death

Once You've Lived In France, You Don't Want To Live Anywhere Else, Including France.

In The Evening Everything Has A Schedule, If You Can Find Out What It Is.

The First Year Was Like Icing. Then The Cake Started To Show Through.

I Want A Bedroom Near The Sky, An Astrologer's Cave Where I Can Fashion Eclogues That Are Chaste And Grave.