The Dream Crossed Twilight Between Birth And

For Us, There Is Only The Trying. The Rest Is Not Our Business.

You Gave Me Hyacinths First A Year Ago; They Called Me The Hyacinth Girl.' —yet When We Came Back, Late, From The Hyacinth Garden, Your Arms Full, And Your Hair Wet, I Could Not Speak, And My Eyes Failed, I Was Neither Living Nor Dead, And I Knew Nothing, Looking Into The Heart Of Light, The Silence. Od' Und Leer Das Meer.

We Fight To Keep Something Alive Rather Than In The Expectation That Anything Will Triumph.

This Is The Feeling For Syllable And Rhythm, Penetrating Far Below The Conscious Levels Of Thought And Feeling, Invigorating Every Word.

Most Of The Trouble In The World Is Caused By People Wanting To Be Important.