Desire Is The Presentiment Of Our Inner

Give Shape, Artist! Don't Talk! Your Poem Be But A Breath.

A Man May Twist As He Pleases, And Do What He Pleases, But He Inevitably Comes Back To The Track To Which Nature Has Destined Him.

Whoever Makes It A Rule To Test Action By Thought, Thought By Action, Cannot Falter, And If He Does, Will Soon Find His Way Back To The Right Road.

Truth Is A Torch But A Tremendous One. That Is Why We Hurry Past It, Shielding Our Eyes, Indeed, In Fear Of Getting Burned.

Nature! We Are Enveloped And Embraced By Her, Incapable Of Emerging From Her And Incapable Of Entering Her More Deeply. Unbidden And Unwarned, She Receives Us Into The Circuits Of Her Dance, Drifting Onward With Us Herself, Until We Grow Tired And Drop From Her Arms.