I Can't Help It When

Journeys End In Lovers Meeting; I Have Spent An All But Sleepless Night, I Have Told Lies And Made A Fool Of Myself, And The Very Air Tastes Like Wine. I Have Been Frightened Half Out Of My Foolish Wits, But I Have Somehow Earned This Joy; I Have Been Waiting For It For So Long.

Poor Strangers, They Have So Much To Be Afraid Of.

I Assume Then, That You Have No Real Faith In The Fondness Any Of The Rest Of Us May Feel For You?''none,' Said Mrs. Halloran.

Today My Winged Horse Is Coming And I Am Carrying You Off To The Moon And On The Moon We Will Eat Rose Petals.

It Might Be Suggested, And Not Easily Disproven That Anything, No Matter How Exotic, Can Be Believed By Someone. On The Other Hand, Abstract Belief Is Largely Impossible; It Is The Concrete, The Actuality Of The Cup, The Candle, The Sacrificial Stone, Which Hardens Belief; The Statue Is Nothing Until It Cries, The Philosophy Is Nothing Until The Philosopher Is Martyred.