Love Begets Love. This Torment Is My

Love Begets Love. This Torment Is My Joy.

The Mind Enters Itself, And God The Mind, And One Is One, Free In The Tearing Wind.

Being, Not Doing, Is My First Joy.

What Is Desire?-- The Impulse To Make Someone Else Complete? That Woman Would Set Sodden Straw On Fire.

I Wish I Could Find An Event That Meant As Much As Simple Seeing.