With A Sudden Sharp Hot Stink Of

The Sea Cries With Its Meaningless Voice, Treating Alike Its Dead And Its Living

Where White Is Black And Black Is White, I Won.

The Gash In Its Throat Was Shocking, But Not Pathetic.

I Shall Also Take You Forth And Carve Our Names Together In A Yew Tree, Haloed With Stars.

The Only Calibration That Counts Is How Much Heart People Invest, How Much They Ignore Their Fears Of Being Hurt Or Caught Out Or Humiliated. And The Only Thing People Regret Is That They Didn't Live Boldly Enough, That They Didn't Invest Enough Heart, Didn't Love Enough. Nothing Else Really Counts At All.