I Teach My Sighs To

Art Is The Means We Have Of Undoing The Damage Of Haste. It's What Everything Else Isn't.

The Visible Exhausts Me. I Am Dissolved In Shadow.

The Indignity Of It!- With Everything Blooming Above Me, Lilies, Pale-pink Cyclamen, Roses, Whole Fields Lovely And Inviolate,- Me Down In The Fetor Of Weeds, Crawling On All Fours, Alive, In A Slippery Grave.

Be Sure That Whatever You Are Is You.

Too Much Reality Can Be A Dazzle, A Surfeit;too Close Immediacy An Exhaustion