The Facts Of History Have Been Too

Somewhere Someone Is Traveling Furiously Toward You, At Incredible Speed, Traveling Day And Night.

Until, Accustomed To Disappointments, You Can Let Yourself Rule And Be Ruled By These Strings Or Emanations That Connect Everything Together, You Haven't Fully Exorcised The Demon Of Doubt That Sets You In Motion Like A Rocking Horse That Cannot Stop Rocking.

... The First Step Of The Terrible Journey Toward Feeling Somebody Should Act, That Ends In Utter Confusion And Hopelessness, East Of The Sun And West Of The Moon.

Poetry Is Mostly Hunches.

The Term Ignorant Is Indeed Perhaps An Overstatement, Implying As It Does That Something Is Known Somewhere, Whereas In Reality We Are Not Even Sure Of This: We In Fact Cannot Aver With Any Degree Of Certainty That We Are Ignorant. Yet This Is Not So Bad; We Have At Any Rate Kept Our Open-mindedness -- That, At Least, We May Be Sure That We Have -- And Are Not In Any Danger, Or So It Seems, Of Freezing Into The Pious Attitudes Of Those True Spiritual Bigots Whose Faces Are Turned Toward Eternity And Who Therefore Can See Nothing.