But The More Poetry One Reads The

I Want, By Understanding Myself, To Understand Others.

You Have Never Been Curious About Me; You Never Wanted To Explore My Soul.

If One Really Does Try To Find Out Why It Is That People Don't Leave Each Other, One Discovers A Mystery. It Is Because They Can't; They Are Bound. And Nobody On Earth Knows What Are The Bonds That Bind Them Except Those Two.

If Only One Could Tell True Love From False Love As One Can Tell Mushrooms From Toadstools. With Mushrooms It Is So Simple - You Salt Them Well, Put Them Aside And Have Patience. But With Love, You Have No Sooner Lighted On Anything That Bears Even The Remotest Resemblance To It Than You Are Perfectly Certain It Is Not Only A Genuine Specimen, But Perhaps The Only Genuine Mushroom Ungathered.

What Do You Want Most To Do? That's What I Have To Keep Asking Myself, In The Face Of Difficulties.