Bring Me The Sunset In

Beauty Is Not The Cause Of Something, It Is What It Is.

Which Anguish Was The Utterest--then-- To Perish, Or To Live?

I Know Nothing In The World That Has As Much Power As A Word. Sometimes I Write One, And I Look At It, Until It Begins To Shine.

I Held A Jewel In My Fingers And Went To Sleep. The Day Was Warm, And Winds Were Prosy; I Said: "'t Will Keep." I Woke And Chid My Honest Fingers,— The Gem Was Gone; And Now An Amethyst Remembrance Is All I Own.

Love Is Anterior To Life, Posterior To Death, Initial Of Creation, And The Exponent Of Breath.