We Shelter An Angel Within

The Poet Never Asks For Admiration; He Wants To Be Believed.

Mirrors Should Think Longer Before They Reflect.

Here I Am Trying To Live, Or Rather, I Am Trying To Teach The Death Within Me How To Live.

I Want The Kind Of Readers Who Remain Children At Any Cost. I Can Tell Them At A Glance: Loyalty To That First Enchantment Guards Better Than Any Cosmetic; Than Any Diet, Against The Insults Of Age. But Alas For Such Readers, Who Would Huddle Safe And Sound In The Asylum Of Their Credulous Enchantment As If In The Womb-our Enervating Century Offends Them By Its Chaos, Its Fidgets Of Light And Space, The Host Of Its Excuses For Dividing , For Rending Oneself From Others And From Oneself.

The Preservation Of Friendship Is Seen As Opportunism. You Are Required To Be In One Camp Or The Other. You Are Enjoined To Cut Your Heartstrings If They Extend Across The Barricade.