The Strides Of Humanity Are Slow, They

We Are Always On Stage, Even When We Are Stabbed In Earnest At The End.

The Life Of The Wealthy Is One Long Sunday.

One Must Love Humanity In Order To Reach Out Into The Unique Essence Of Each Individual: No One Can Be Too Low Or Too Ugly.

Only One Thing Abides: An Infinite Beauty That Passes From Form To Form, Eternally Changed And Revealed Afresh.

And For Tired Eyes Every Light Is Too Bright, And For Tired Lips Every Breath Too Heavy, And For Tired Ears Every Word Too Much.