What We Feel Most Has

We Think The Fire Eats The Wood. We Are Wrong. The Wood Reaches Out To The Flame. The Fire Licks At What The Wood Harbors, And The Wood Gives Itself Away To That Intimacy, The Manner In Which We And The World Meet Each New Day.

We Must Risk Delight. We Can Do Without Pleasure, But Not Delight. Not Enjoyment. We Must Have The Stubbornness To Accept Our Gladness In The Ruthless Furnace Of This World. To Make Injustice The Only Measure Of Our Attention Is To Praise The Devil.

Waking At Night The Blue River Is Grey At Morning And Evening. There Is Twilight At Dawn And Dusk. I Lie In The Dark Wondering If This Quiet In Me Now Is A Beginning Or An End.

Fame Is A Lot Of Fun, But It's Not Interesting. I Loved Being Noticed And Praised, Even The Banquets. But They Didn't Have Anything That I Wanted. After About Six Months, I Found It Boring.

I Believe That Icarus Was Not Failing As He Fell, But Just Coming To The End Of His Triumph.