We Choose Our Joys And Sorrows Long

Vague And Nebulous Is The Beginning Of All Things, But Not Their End.

My God, My Aim And My Fulfillment; I Am Thy Yesterday And Thou Are My Tomorrow. I Am They Root In The Earth And Thou Art My Flower In The Sky, And Together We Grow Before The Face Of The Sun.

Am I A Harp That The Hand Of The Mighty May Touch Me, Or A Flute That His Breath May Pass Through Me? A Seeker Of Silences Am I, And What Treasure Have I Found In Silences That I May Dispense With Confidence?

The Things Which The Child Loves Remain In The Domain Of The Heart Until Old Age. The Most Beautiful Thing In Life Is That Our Souls Remain Hovering Over The Places Where We Once Enjoyed Ourselves. I Am One Of Those Who Remembers Those Places Regardless Of Distance Or Time.

Poetry, My Dear Friends, Is A Sacred Incarnation Of A Smile. Poetry Is A Sigh That Dries The Tears. Poetry Is A Spirit Who Dwells In The Soul, Whose Nourishment Is The Heart, Whose Wine Is Affection. Poetry That Comes Not In This Form Is A False Messiah.