I Think We Look For

Because In Some Men It Is In Them To Give Up Everything Personal At Some Time, Before It Ferments And Poisons--throw It To Some Human Being Or Some Human Idea. They Have To.

For In A Swift Radiance Of Illumination He Saw A Glimpse Of Human Struggle And Valor. Of The Endless Fluid Passage Of The Humanity Through Endless Time. And Of Those Who Labor And Of Those Who - One Word- Love. His Soul Expanded. But For A Moment Only. For In Him, He Felt A Warning, A Shaft Of Terror.

But All The Time-no Matter What She Was Doing-there Was Music.

A Most Mediocre Person Can Be The Object Of A Love Which Is Wild, Extravagant, And Beautiful As The Poison Lillies Of The Swamp.

His Own Life Seemed So Solitary, A Fragile Column Supporting Nothing Amidst The Wreckage Of The Years.