To Live Is To Be Slowly Born.

It Is As A Soldier That You Make Love And As A Lover That You Make War.

What Was My Body To Me? A Kind Of Flunkey In My Service. Let But My Anger Wax Hot, My Love Grow Exalted, My Hatred Collect In Me, And That Boasted Solidarity Between Me And My Body Was Gone.

You See, One Loves The Sunset When One Is So Sad.

When A Mystery Is Too Overpowering, One Dare Not Disobey.

Night, When Words Fade And Things Come Alive.