I Do Not Love; I Do Not

The Moon Has Nothing To Be Sad About, Staring From Her Hood Of Bone. She Is Used To This Sort Of Thing. Her Blacks Crackle And Drag.

I Need Not To Be More With Others, But To Be More & More Deeply, Richly Alone. Recreating Worlds.

There Must Be Quite A Few Things That A Hot Bath Won't Cure, But I Don't Know Many Of Them.

The Blood Of Love Welled Up In My Heart With A Slow Pain.

I Don't See,' I Said, 'how People Stand Being Old. Your Insides All Dry Up. When You're Young You're So Self-reliant. You Don't Even Need Much Religion.