Be Ahead Of All Parting, As Though

There Is Time Only To Work Slowly There Is No Time Not To Love

How I Will Cherish You Then, You Grief-torn Nights! Had I Only Received You, Inconsolable Sisters, On More Abject Knees, Only Buried Myself With More Abandon In Your Loosened Hair. How We Waste Our Afflictions! We Study Them, Stare Out Beyond Them Into Bleak Continuance, Hoping To Glimpse Some End. Whereas They're Really Our Wintering Foliage, Our Dark Greens Of Meaning, One Of The Seasons Of The Clandestine Year -- ; Not Only A Season --: They're Site, Settlement, Shelter, Soil, Abode.

What Batters You Becomes Your Strength.

The Knowledge Of Impermanence That Haunts Our Days Is Their Very Fragrance.

I Have Patience For Centuries In Me And Will Live As Though My Time Were Very Big.