A Head Full Of Stars, Just Not

There Is No Doubt: The Study Of Man Is Just Beginning, At The Same Time That His End Is In Sight

Explain Nothing. Put It There. Say It. Leave.

There Can Be No Creator, Simply Because His Grief At The Fate Of His Creation Would Be Inconceivable And Unendurable.

...how Could I, Fool That I Am, Go On Sitting In My Office, Or Here At Home, Instead Of Leaping Onto A Train With My Eyes Shut And Opening Them Only When I Am With You?

A Child. . . Opens And Closes Like A Blossom.