There Is No Shelter In You Anywhere.

Life Isn't One Thing After Another, It's The Same Thing Over And Over.

I Find That I Never Lose Bach. I Don't Know Why I Have Always Loved Him So. Except That He Is So Pure, So Relentless And Incorruptible, Like A Principle Of Geometry.

A Ghost In Marble Of A Girl You Knew Who Would Have Loved You In A Day Or Two.

Now The Autumn Shudders In The Rose's Root. Far And Wide The Ladders Lean Among The Fruit. Now The Autumn Clambers Up The Trellised Frame, And The Rose Remembers The Dust From Which It Came. Brighter Than The Blossom On The Rose's Bough Sits The Wizened Orange, Bitter Berry Now; Beauty Never Slumbers; All Is In Her Name; But The Rose Remembers The Dust From Which It Came.

Man Has Never Been The Same Since God Died.