We Are All Imprisoned By The Dictionary.

Seeing An Earl As An Owl On A Mantelpiece, And Having Part Of One's Face Removed By A Cat, Both On The Same Morning, Can Temporarily Undermine The Self-control Of Any Man.

Each Day I Live In A Glass Room Unless I Break It With The Thrusting Of My Senses And Pass Through The Splintered Walls To The Great Landscape.

There Is A Brotherhood Among The Kindly- Closer And Defter And More Integral- Than Any Of Aisle Or Coven- For Love Rang Out Before The Chapel Bell

For Death Is Life. It Is Only Living That Is Lifeless.

Through Her, In Microcosm, The Wide Earth Sobbed. The Starglobe Sank In Her; The Colours Faded. The Death-dew Rose And The Wild Birds In Her Breast Climbed To Her Throat And Gathered Songless, Hovering, All Tumult, Wing To Wing, So Ardent For Those Climes Where All Things End.