The Moon Rattles Like A Fragment Of

The Three Saddest Things Are The Ill Wanting To Be Well, The Poor Wanting To Be Rich, And The Constant Traveler Saying 'anywhere But Here'.

Things Which In My Mind Blossom Will Stumble Beneath A Clumsiest Disguise Appear Capable Of Fragility And Indecision

The Artist Is Not A Man Who Describes, But A Man Who Feels.

Be Of Love A Little More Careful Than Of Anything.

What Time Is It? It Is By Every Star A Different Time, And Each Most Falsely True.