Wherever I Go, I Will Speak Of

One Man's Pornography Is Another Man's Theology.

How Many Human Eyes...had Snatched Glimpses Of Their Secret Anatomies, Down The Passage Of Years?

It Was As Though In These Last Minutes Together - When They Had So Much To Say - They Could Say Nothing Of The Least Significance, For Fear It Open The Floodgates.

And In Time It Will Be As Though Men Had Never Come To This Perfect Corner Of The World-never Called It Paradise On Earth, Never Despoiled It With Their Dream Factories; And In The Golden Hush Of The Afternoon All That Will Be Heard Will Be The Flittering Of Dragonflies, And The Murmur Of Hummingbirds As They Pass From Bower To Bower, Looking For A Place To Sup Sweetness.

I'm A Poet,' The Young Man Said, 'and It's My Job To Remember The Sadness Of Things.