The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.

Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!

I could never throw Love out of the window.

And I am still alive-what though, my damnation is eternal. A man who deliberately mutilates himself is truly damned, is he not? I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am.

...You have to pass an exam, and the jobs that you get are either to shine shoes, or to herd cows, or to tend pigs. Thank God, I don't want any of that! Damn it! And besides that they smack you for a reward; they call you an animal and it's not true, a little kid, etc.. Oh! Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn!

All day long he was docile, intelligent, good, Though sometimes changing to a darker mood. He seemed hypocritical, could tell better lies, in the dark he saw dots of colors behind closed eyes, clenched fists, put his tongue out at his elder brother.

I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.