The Supreme Question About A Work Of

No One Would Think He'd Make Such A Beautiful Corpse.

Good Puzzle Would Be Cross Dublin Without Passing A Pub.

Alone, What Did Bloom Feel? The Cold Of Interstellar Space, Thousands Of Degrees Below Freezing Point Or The Absolute Zero Of Fahrenheit, Centigrade Or Réaumur: The Incipient Intimations Of Proximate Dawn.

Secrets, Silent, Stony Sit In The Dark Palaces Of Both Our Hearts: Secrets Weary Of Their Tyranny: Tyrants Willing To Be Dethroned.

Have Read Little And Understood Less.