Being Good Is Just A Matter Of

Every Human Soul Has Seen, Perhaps Before Their Birth, Pure Forms Such As Justice, Temperance, Beauty And All The Great Moral Qualities Which We Hold In Honour. We Are Moved Towards What Is Good By The Faint Memory Of These Forms, Simple And Calm And Blessed, Which We Saw Once In A Pure, Clear Light, Being Pure Ourselves.

Music Relates Sound And Time And So Pictures The Ultimate Edges Of Human Commmunications.

A Letter Is A Barrier, A Reprieve, A Charm Against The World, An Almost Infallible Method Of Acting At A Distance.

A Middling Talent Makes For A More Serene Life.

So We Live; A Spirit That Broods And Hovers Over The Continual Death Of Time, The Lost Meaning, The Unrecaptured Moment, The Unremembered Face, Until The Final Chop That Ends All Our Moments And Plunges That Spirit Back Into The Void From Which It Came.