We Are Lived By Powers We Pretend

Poetry Might Be Defined As The Clear Expression Of Mixed Feelings.

No Being Can Make Another One Happy.

Those To Whom Evil Is Donedo Evil In Return.

If It Form The One Landscape That We The Inconstant Ones Are Consistently Homesick For, This Is Chiefly Because It Dissolves In Water.

The Ogre Does What Ogres Can, Deeds Quite Impossible For Man, But One Prize Is Beyond His Reach, The Ogre Cannot Master Speech: About A Subjugated Plain, Among Its Desperate And Slain, The Ogre Stalks With Hands On Hips, While Drivel Gushes From His Lips.