The Eye Is Not Open When It

How Small These Rescued Tides Appear! Earthly Delights Flow In Torrents. Each Object Offers Paradise.

What One Hides Is Worth Neither More Nor Less Than What One Finds. And What One Hides From Oneself Is Worth Neither More Nor Less Than What One Allows Others To Find.

Who Am I? If This Once I Were To Rely On A Proverb, Then Perhaps Everything Would Amount To Knowing Whom I 'haunt.'

Everything Tends To Make Us Believe That There Exists A Certain Point Of The Mind At Which Life And Death, The Real And The Imagined, Past And Future, The Communicable And The Incommunicable, High And Low, Cease To Be Perceived As Contradictions.

When Will The Arbitrary Be Granted The Place It Deserves In The Formation Of Works And Ideas?