Poetry Has Been The Longest Pleasure Of

Madness Might Sometimes Give Access To A Kind Of Knowledge. But Was Not A Guarantee.

Children Seldom Have A Proper Sense Of Their Own Tragedy, Discounting And Keeping Hidden The True Horrors Of Their Short Lives, Humbly Imagining Real Calamity To Be Some Prestigious Drama Of The Grown-up World.

One Would Always Want To Think Of Oneself As Being On The Side Of Love, Ready To Recognize It And Wish It Well -but, When Confronted With It In Others, One So Often Resented It, Questioned Its True Nature, Secretly Dismissed The Particular Instance As Folly Or Promiscuity. Was It Merely Jealousy, Or A Reluctance To Admit So Noble And Enviable A Sentiment In Anyone But Oneself?

At First, There Is Something You Expect Of Life. Later, There Is What Life Expects Of You. By The Time You Realize These Are The Same, It Can Be Too Late For Expectations. What We Are Being, Not What We Are To Be. They Are The Same Thing.

There Is Balance In Life, But Not Fairness.