What Falls Away Is Always. And Is

The Living All Assemble! What's The Cue?-- Do What The Clumsy Partner Wants To Do!

I Can't Go On Flying Apart Just For Those Who Want The Benefit Of A Few Verbal Kicks. My God, Do You Know What Poems Like That Cost? They're Not Written Vicariously: They Come Out Of Actual Suffering, Real Madness.

The Fields Stretch Out In Long Unbroken Rows. We Walk Aware Of What Is Far And Close. Here Distance Is Familiar As A Friend. The Feud We Kept With Space Comes To An End.

Art Is Our Defense Against Hysteria And Death.

The Self Says, I Am; The Heart Says, I Am Less; The Spirit Says, You Are Nothing.