Man's Passion For Truth Is

I Thought My Fire Was Out, And Stirred The Ashes…. I Burnt My Fingers.

The Truly Erotic Sensibility, In Evoking The Image Of Woman, Never Omits To Clothe It. The Robing And Disrobing: That Is The True Traffic Of Love.

I. Don't Trace Out Your Profile-- Forget Your Side View-- All That Is Outer Stuff. Ii. Look For Your Other Half Who Walks Always Next To You And Tends To Be Who You Aren't.

Wanderer, Your Footsteps Are The Road, And Nothing More; Wanderer, There Is No Road, The Road Is Made By Walking. By Walking One Makes The Road, And Upon Glancing Behind One Sees The Path. . .

The Unpublished Manuscript Is Like An Uncon-fessed Sin That Festers In The Soul, Corrupting And Contaminating It.