We Have Really No Absent Friends.

Without Fiction, Either Life Would Be Insufficient Or The Winds From The North Would Blow Too Cold.

Autumn Arrives In The Early Morning.

Fate Is Not An Eagle, It Creeps Like A Rat.

The Most Steady, The Most Self-sufficient Nature Depends, More Than It Knows, On Its Few Chosen Stimuli.

Wariness Had Driven Away Poetry; From Hesitating To Feel Came The Moment When You No Longer Could.