To Be Grown Up Is To Sit

Life Isn't One Thing After Another, It's The Same Thing Over And Over.

I Saw And Heard, And Knew At Last The How And Why Of All Things, Past, And Present, And Forevermore.

Please Give Me Some Good Advice In Your Next Letter. I Promise Not To Follow It.

For My Omniscience Paid I Toll In Infinite Remorse Of Soul. All Sin Was Of My Sinning, All Atoning Mine, And Mine The Gall Of All Regret. Mine Was The Weight Of Every Brooded Wrong, The Hate That Stood Behind Each Envious Thrust, Mine Every Greed, Mine Every Lust. And All The While For Every Grief, Each Suffering, I Craved Relief With Individual Desire, – Craved All In Vain! And Felt Fierce Fire About A Thousand People Crawl; Perished With Each, — Then Mourned For All!

Longing Alone Is Singer To The Lute.