Life Is The Game That Must Be

I Don't Say What God Is, But A Name That Somehow Answers Us When We Are Driven To Feel And Think How Little We Have To Do With What We Are.

And We Who Delve In Beauty's Lore Know All That We Have Known Before Of What Inexorable Cause Makes Time So Vicious In His Reaping.

Poets And Kings Are But The Clerks Of Time, Tiering The Same Dull Webs Of Discontent, Clipping The Same Sad Alnage Of The Years.

For When A Woman Is Left Too Much Alone, Sooner Or Later She Begins To Think; And No Man Knows What Then She May Discover.

Friends: People Who Borrow My Books And Set Wet Glasses On Them.