I Would Hold The Rosy, Slender Fingers

Literature Is News That Stays News.

I Desired My Dust To Be Mingled With Yours Forever And Forever And Forever.

We Do Not Know The Past In Chronological Sequence. It May Be Convenient To Lay It Out Anesthetized On The Table With Dates Pasted On Here And There, But What We Know We Know By Ripples And Spirals Eddying Out From Us And From Our Own Time.

Allow Me To Say That I Would Long Since Have Committed Suicide Had Desisting Made Me A Professor Of Latin.

The Temple Is Holy Because It Is Not For Sale.