What Is This Enigmatic Impulse That Does

Consciousness Even In My Sleep Changes Primary Colors. The Features Of My Face Melt Like A Wax Doll In The Fire. And Who Can Consent To See In The Mirror The Mere Face Of Man?

The Voice Of Passion Is Better Than The Voice Of Reason. The Passionless Cannot Change History.

Love Means To Look At Yourself The Way One Looks At Distant Things For You Are Only One Thing Among Many.

Grow Your Tree Of Falsehood From A Small Grain Of Truth. Do Not Follow Those Who Lie In Contempt Of Reality. Let Your Lie Be Even More Logical Than The Truth Itself, So The Weary Travelers May Find Repose.

Leaves Glowing In The Sun, Zealous Hum Of Bumblebees, From Afar, From Somewhere Beyond The River, Echoes Of Lingering Voices And The Unhurried Sounds Of A Hammer Gave Joy Not Only To Me. Before The Five Senses Were Opened, And Earlier Than Any Beginning They Waited, Ready, For All Those Who Would Call Themselves Mortals, So That They Might Praise, As I Do, Life, That Is, Happiness.