Once You Abstract From This, Once You

Reach Me A Gentian, Give Me A Torch! Let Me Guide Myself With The Blue, Forked Torch Of A Flower Down The Darker And Darker Stairs, Where Blue Is Darkened On Blueness Even Where Persephone Goes, Just Now, From The Frosted September To The Sightless Realm Where Darkness Is Awake Upon The Dark.

The Living Self Has One Purpose Only: To Come Into Its Own Fullness Of Being, As A Tree Comes Into Full Blossom, Or A Bird Into Spring Beauty, Or A Tiger Into Lustre.

The Italians Are Not Passionate: Passion Has Deep Reserves. They Are Easily Moved, And Often Affectionate, But They Rarely Have Any Abiding Passion Of Any Sort.

Things Men Have Made With Wakened Hands, And Put Soft Life Into Are Awake Through Years With Transferred Touch, And Go On Glowing For Long Years. And For This Reason, Some Old Things Are Lovely Warm Still With The Life Of Forgotten Men Who Made Them.

The Deadly Hydra Now Is The Hydra Of Equality. Liberty, Equality And Fraternity Is The Three-fanged Serpent.