There Is Only One Woman In The

How Could I, Who Loved Life So Intensely, Have Let Myself Be Entangled For So Long In That Balderdash Of Books And Paper Blackened With Ink!

My Entire Soul Is A Cry, And All My Work Is A Commentary On That Cry.

This, I Thought, Is How Great Visionaries And Poets See Everything- As If For The First Time. Each Morning They See A New World Before Their Eyes; They Do Not Really See It, They Create It.

Truly, Everything In This World Depended On Time. Time Ripened All. If You Had Time, You Succeeded In Working The Human Mud Internally And Turning It Into Spirit. Then You Did Not Fear Death. If You Did Not Have Time, You Perished.

Never In My Life Have I Feared Death As Much As I Feared That Resurrection.