This is war: Boys flung into a breach Like shoveled earth; And old men, Broken, Driving rapidly before crowds of people In a glitter of silly decorations. Behind the boys And the old men, Life weeps, And shreds her garments To the blowing winds.

Everything mortal has moments immortal

Happiness, to some, is elation; to others it is mere stagnation.

You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.

Don’t ask a writer what he’s working on. It’s like asking someone with cancer on the progress of his disease.

Happiness, to some, elation; Is, to others, mere stagnation.

Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know.