The Whole Shadow Of Man Is Only

But He Sleeps On The Top Of His Mast With His Eyes Closed Tight. The Gull Inquired Into His Dream, Which Was, "i Must Not Fall. The Spangled Sea Below Wants Me To Fall. It Is Hard As Diamonds; It Wants To Destroy Us All.

I Am In Need Of Music That Would Flow Over My Fretful, Feeling Finger-tips, Over My Bitter-tainted, Trembling Lips, With Melody, Deep, Clear, And Liquid-slow. Oh, For The Healing Swaying, Old And Low, Of Some Song Sung To Rest The Tired Dead, A Song To Fall Like Water On My Head, And Over Quivering Limbs, Dream Flushed To Glow! There Is A Magic Made By Melody: A Spell Of Rest, And Quiet Breath, And Cool Heart, That Sinks Through Fading Colors Deep To The Subaqueous Stillness Of The Sea, And Floats Forever In A Moon-green Pool, Held In The Arms Of Rhythm And Of Sleep.

Someone Loves Us All.

Lose Something Every Day. Accept The Fluster Of Lost Door Keys, The Hour Badly Spent. The Art Of Losing Isn't Hard To Master.

Sometimes It Seemsas Though Only Intelligent People Are Stupid Enough To Fall In Love & Only Stupid People Are Intelligent Enough To Let Themselves Be Loved.