I Was Ready To Love The Whole

Love, Like Fire, Goes Out Without Fuel.

I Was Modest--they Accused Me Of Being Crafty: I Became Secretive. I Felt Deeply Good And Evil--nobody Caressed Me, Everybody Offended Me: I Became Rancorous. I Was Gloomy--other Children Were Merry And Talkative. I Felt Myself Superior To Them--but Was Considered Inferior: I Became Envious. I Was Ready To Love The Whole World--none Understood Me: And I Learned To Hate.

I Was Ready To Love The Whole World, But No One Understood Me, And I Learned To Hate.

He In His Madness Prays For Storms, And Dreams That Storms Will Bring Him Peace.

When We Retire From The Conventions Of Society And Draw Close To Nature, We Involuntarily Become Children: Each Attribute Acquired By Experience Falls Away From The Soul, Which Becomes Anew Such As It Was Once And Will Surely Be Again.