Nature Is Pitiless; She Never

O Darkness, The Sky Is A Gloomy Precinct Whose Door You Close, And Whose Key The Soul Owns; And Night Divides Itself In Half, Being Diabolical And Holy, Between Ilis, The Black Angel, And Christ, The Starry Human Being.

I Like The Laughter That Opens The Lips And The Heart, Shows At The Same Time The Pearls And The Soul.

Where The Telescope Ends The Microscope Begins, And Which Has The Wider Vision?

Take All Reasonable Advantage Of That Which The Present May Offer You. It Is The Only Time Which Is Ours. Yesterday Is Buried Forever, And To-morrow We May Never See.

In Joined Hands There Is Still Some Token Of Hope, In The Clenched Fist None.